


Boys Don't Cry

by TheHumming6irdWrites (JustAnotherCumberfictionFangirl)



Series: Time after Time [1]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Young British Artists | Britart RPF
Genre: (And that's just me! Muahaha), (This is going to be a long one so buckle up and enjoy the ride!), 1999 Tom, 2009 Tom, 2016 Tom, Accidental Voyeurism, Actor Tom Hiddleston, An unhealthy dose of angst along the way, And yes! That means snake hips Tom dancing..., Angry Sex, Angry Tom, Angst, Angsty Hiddles, Attempted Sexual Assault, Awkward Flirting, Baby Hiddles, Blow Jobs, Bollywood dancing, Cunning Plans, Dancing, Depression, Derogatory Language, Developing Relationship, Dripping with sexual tension..., Drunkenness, Dubious Ethics, Embarrassment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Even MORE dancing, Exotic Nights, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gratuitous Smut, Green eyed monsters, Horny Teenagers, Indian Weddings, Inspired by Music, Jealousy, Just to frustrate Lovelygirl2406 the red plaid shirt of sex WILL make an appearance eventually..., Karma - Freeform, Long-Distance Relationship, Loss of Virginity, Lots of lovely gifs, Lovers To Enemies, Luke Windsor POV, Matchmaking, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Misunderstandings, More Hiddles Dancing, Multiple Timelines, NSFW, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Over-enthusiastic sex, POV Female Character, POV Multiple, POV Tom Hiddleston, Recovery, Remorse, Rough Sex, Severe Trauma, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, So Much Hiddles Hand Porn, Social Awkwardness, Teenage Tom Hiddleston, Teenage Tom is a Bill/Oakley Hybrid, Traumatic Medical Conditions, Voice Kink, Wait a minute... Is that Eddie Vedder I see?!, attempted suicide, game plans, major angst, make-up sex, near misses, secrets and lies, sexual fantasies, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 61
Words: 177,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherCumberfictionFangirl/pseuds/TheHumming6irdWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long before Tom Hiddleston’s star started to shine he was an ungainly teenager with a massive crush on his big sister’s best friend… What follows is their story.</p><p>Set over seventeen years from 1999 to 2016.<br/><br/>[COMPLETED]<br/> </p><p> </p><p>A/N: This is a work of fiction. The majority of scenarios come from my silly little mind although you'll find the odd sneaky little quote or titbit from an interview. While there will be some scenes which are based on reported events, poetic license has and will be used in bucket loads. All other character's are fictitious, with the exception of the Hiddleston's (and by extension their close acquaintances), but ALL characters are completely my own interpretation and not intended to offend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lovelygirl2406](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelygirl2406/gifts).



> "What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it" ~ Gabriel García Márquez

**Part 1 ~ Summer 1999 **

“Good God! What the hell happened to your brother? Last time I saw him he only came up to your shoulder!” the young woman stared at her best friend’s younger brother, taking in his gangly long legs and skinny frame “Do they make them sleep in grow bags at Eton or something?”

Sarah Hiddleston glanced distractedly over towards her brother, then back to her oldest friend’s wide eyes and snorted with laughter.

“Oh Grace don’t!” she giggled “he’s self-conscious enough about it as it is! He stoops over all the time. I swear mum’s convinced people think he’s got a hunchback!”

Grace, who had a mouthful of wine, almost choked with laughter “I’m not surprised. He always was a scrawny little thing but now look at him! The poor dear looks like he could break in two at any moment. Are you sure they’re feeding him properly at that school?”

“ _Sshhh_ , he’s coming over. Be nice! You know how fond he is of you” Sarah warned good-naturedly.

Grace watched in amusement as the tall drink of water that was Tom approached the two young women self-consciously, reminiscent of an ungainly baby giraffe learning to stand on its own feet for the first time. She looked from his baggy jeans to his layered top, neither of which did anything to hide his skinny frame and bit back a smirk. His eyes darted shiftily around and his lips were pressed together in an inscrutable expression as he cradled his bottle of Becks.

“Hey Tom!” Grace slowly, deliberately, took in his height - from his headful of unruly blond curls down to his ridiculously long feet and back up again - enjoying the way he wriggled uncomfortably under her gaze “Wow! You’ve shot up since the last time I saw you!” She dived straight in, ignoring the warning look from Sarah “How long’s it been Thomas?”

Tom’s neck burned a fierce red and Sarah let out a huff at her friend’s use of his formal name, before linking her brother’s arm in a show of solidarity. Grace bit her tongue. She couldn’t help the feeling that she was in some way being reprimanded. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, _had she?_ They were all old friends. And she’d only been trying to make conversation, knowing how fond Sarah was of her brother. They were such a close knit family and in many ways she envied them, her own family situation being less than perfect.

“Um… erm… hi Grace… it’s been just over eleven months. Last August… the twenty eighth to be precise” Tom replied eagerly - albeit stutteringly - and in spite of the red flush ascending up over his prominent cheekbones.

“It was at Mum’s garden party for Aunt Sylvie’s seventieth I think” he tried to backtrack, not wanting the girl – no… _woman_ \- he was infatuated with to realise he knew the exact date _\- and time if he was being totally honest_ \- he’d last seen her, and instead licked his lips nervously as he tried not to stare directly down into her cleavage. Standing nearly a foot taller than Grace, even in her chunky heels, it seemed his newly acquired height did indeed have _some_ perks after all. Unfortunately he quickly realised that if he was to remain in _any_ control of himself - and not be completely reduced to a dithering, stuttering mess with the added complication of a boner - he had better tear his eyes away from the aforementioned perks. And sharpish!

“Oh… right. Yeah, the garden party…” Grace shrugged, already bored of the conversation. She knew Tom was waiting for her to say something else and as the seconds ticked by she began to grow uncomfortable under his gaze. Glancing to her best friend for some inspiration she was met with an amused grin and pulled a face.

“Right… well, if you will both excuse me, I need another drink!”

Tom stared down at Grace’s half full glass in confusion, and as she followed his eyes she too realised her faux pas.

_Shit!_

She quickly raised the glass to her lips and downed the contents in one long gulp, immediately regretting the action as the burn of the alcohol enveloped her throat and made her choke. Tom instinctively moved to pat her back but she dodged his hand. Before either sibling could say anything else she turned her back and headed across the lawn and up the steps towards the kitchen, where one of the makeshift bars had been set up. There had been one much closer - in the marquee right behind them - but she'd suddenly needed to get as far away from everyone as she possibly could. She needed a few minutes to herself. 

Inside, Grace stared at the choices on offer. She wasn’t a big drinker, but she somehow had the distinct feeling that if she was going to get through tonight, on her own, she was going to need some serious help.

And if that help came from a bottle? Well… all the better.

Ignoring the knot starting to tighten in her stomach, she poured a generous serving from a bottle containing a bright green melon liqueur she’d once had at a college party, and topped the glass with a consolatory drop of lemonade. The green stuff had done the trick _that_ night, hopefully it would tonight as well. She gulped back the tears that were suddenly threatening to escape as she allowed herself to remember _him_ for a moment.   

Two weeks.

Two whole weeks and he _still_ hadn’t apologised.

Two long weeks and he hadn’t even been in touch…

Sarah had told her he wasn’t worth it. But Grace had honestly thought Joe might be _the one_.

Unfortunately for Grace, she hadn’t been Joe’s only one _._

A tear trickled down her cheek as she felt the sting of rejection squeeze at her heart once more. She remembered all those times she’d tried to initiate something more… _intimate_ with Joe - with him stopping her and saying he respected her too much and they should wait - only to discover that he had been getting off with Alex behind her back all along.

The fact that Alex was Joe’s flatmate made her skin crawl and she felt all the more inadequate. How long had they been at it behind her back?

So here she was. At a party she was really not in any mood for. Surrounded by happy people. She knew she was being ungrateful. She was with her best friend again. But her heart hurt and she desperately wanted the pain to go away. If that meant drinking herself into oblivion with some weird luminous green concoction and affectionately taking the piss out of Tom the giraffe for the evening, why the hell not? Tom could take it. And men were dicks anyway, weren’t they? They didn’t give a shit about her emotions, why should she care about theirs?

She gulped back another sob of self-pity. She wasn’t even sure why she’d agreed to come to the party in the first place.

_No, that wasn’t altogether true._

She’d come because Sarah had begged her. It was a regular date in the Hiddleston calendar. Every July at the end of the academic year Mrs Hiddleston would throw a huge party for family and friends to welcome back her children, who all boarded away during term-time. It was a lovely gesture and the sentiment was one which Grace wished her own parents would somehow subscribe to. Alas, they weren’t even going to be in the country for her twentieth birthday next month, so she knew it was far too much to expect them to be here just to see their daughter at the end of term. Not that _that_ was anything new…

*

_As a small child Grace had been desperately lonely. Despite her privileged upbringing, there was never any real outward show of affection in her home. Her parents, renowned geologists, travelled the globe so she was often left with nannies until she started nursery school. Painfully shy and unaccustomed to being around other children Grace had struggled to fit in at school. That is, until the Hiddleston’s had moved in next door when she had just turned six._

_She would never forget that day._

_It had been a glorious late summer morning and she’d climbed up, as she often did, into the apple tree at the rear of the garden with her favourite Winnie the Pooh book. There was a little nook in amongst the branches were she could safely sit and read, and moreover forget her loneliness as she pretended to be Owl, wisely looking out over the Hundred Acre Wood and imagining what exciting events were about to unfold down below._

_On this particular summer’s morning she had been startled out of her fantasy world by the sound of gleeful singing and rambunctious shouting over the fence. She had been shocked at first. The house that backed onto Grace’s had been empty for as long as she could remember. But those had definitely been voices._

_Children’s voices!_

_She had been absolutely certain of it._

_She had scrambled upright, clinging to the furthest branch she could reach in order to get a better look over the fence._

_Down below, merrily whirling around as she sang out loud had been a girl with bright blonde wavy hair down to her waist. Grace had thought she looked like a princess at a ball with her pale lilac summer dress twirling out around her knees as she had danced across the grass. She looked roughly the same age as Grace, maybe a little older as she was definitely taller than Grace – not that that was too difficult, being that she was always the shortest in her class. In the distance she could see the source of the shouting. A younger boy, with a nest of curls just as blond as his sisters, was running around, arms outstretched as he made aeroplane noises before throwing himself dramatically onto the floor and rolling down the steeply inclined lawn towards the fence below her._

_They had looked like they were having so much fun and Grace had felt a pang of sadness as she’d sat watching. Her loneliness had only grown deeper as she’d seen the affectionate way in which the sister had scooped up her brother when he collided with the fence and cried out in pain._

_Grace had watched on in wonder as a kind looking woman had stepped out onto the patio, a toddler clinging to her leg. She knew immediately this must be their mother. On hearing her son’s tears the woman had moved quickly across the lawn and called the children over to a blanket where a small picnic had been assembled. As the young boy had sniffled, holding his older sisters hand he’d turned back towards the fence and looked up at the tree where Grace was standing. She’d held her breath. She wasn’t even sure why. It was her garden after all. But she’d clung to that branch while the boy looked up curiously before turning his back once more and heading towards the welcoming arms of his mother._

_Every day Grace had watched them. Sarah, the eldest, sang and danced and dressed her younger siblings up as they played all sorts of silly but fun looking games. Tom - or Thomas when he was being scolded – was as excitable as a puppy, rarely stopping to think of the dangers before throwing himself headlong into everything. And finally there was Emma. The youngest of the three, she spent less time with the older children, often clinging to her mother, but when she did they were extremely protective of her._

_The family’s dynamic had fascinated Grace. They would spend so much time together. She was lucky if she got to see her parents for a few weeks over the summer and a week at Christmas due to their demanding work commitments. Even then they would spend much of their time planning their next expedition. But the parents on the other side of the fence were always home at the weekends. And this family seemed to actually enjoy one another’s company! It was most peculiar. They would have parties, games, picnics. Everything that Grace longed for from her own parents._

_Grace had watched on wistfully as their father - a tall handsome man with a strong Scottish accent - had erected a large playhouse at the bottom of the garden over the course of one particular weekend. Tom had tried to help with his own toy tool set but he was more of a hindrance than a help. But his father had patiently indulged him and when they’d had a grand opening late that Sunday evening she’d desperately wished she could see inside. It was just to the side of her tree, right up against the fence, meaning all she could see was the back and the roof. She’d longed to see how it was furnished and what they did in there that had the children in fits of laughter each day._

_As the summer had drawn to a close, Grace had grown ever more melancholic about the thought of returning to school. She would miss these happy children, even if all she was doing was watching them. It was as she was contemplating this once again, tears sparkling in her eyes at the thought of what teasing awaited her in the coming year, that she had sniffed back a sad sob and wiped at her eyes. As she did so, her book had slipped from her damp hand and clattered through the branches, landing with an almighty thump on the roof of the children’s playhouse._

_She had held her breath as out first came Sarah - a worried expression on her face - swiftly followed by the whirlwind that was Tom, who had immediately looked up at the overhanging apple tree. Grace had tried to sink back against the branches, but it had been no good. Nanny Simpson had made her wear a pair of bright orange leggings that day because she’d started coming back inside with her legs torn to pieces from constantly climbing the tree._

_“I knew it!” Tom had shouted and grinned up at her before turning to his sister “I said there was someone up there sis! She’s been watching us all this time!”_

_“Hey there! What’s your name?” Sarah had shouted up to her and Grace, caught and frozen to the spot had stuttered out her full name and immediately cringed at her formality._

_“G… Grace Olivia W…W…Wallace-Stanley”_

_Tom had snickered at her primness but a swift elbow from Sarah and a warning of “Stop it Thomas or I’ll tell mum!” had him immediately apologising._

_“Sorry… Grace…” he’d looked sheepish before grinning back up at her as an idea came to him “Do you want to come and play with us? I bet Mum won’t mind! I’ll go ask…”_

_Before Grace could even answer, Tom had dashed back off up towards the house._

_“Sorry about my brother” Sarah had smiled kindly up at the smaller girl clinging desperately to the tree branch up above her “are you okay? We didn’t scare you did we?”_

_“No… no. I… I was just reading my book and it slipped” Grace’s cheeks had burned even brighter with the lie._

_“Your book?” Sarah had looked puzzled for a moment at her hands, holding nothing but the tree, before realisation had finally dawned “Oh! So that’s what that bang was! What book was it?”_

_“Erm… Winnie the Pooh. It’s my favourite”_

_“That’s one of my favourites too! And Tom’s…” Sarah’s excited voice had trailed off at the sound of footsteps behind her._

_“Hello Grace” the motherly tone of Mrs Hiddleston had risen up to where Grace was still clinging to the tree, and smiled warmly “Tom said he’s invited you around to play. If it’s okay with your parents it’s absolutely fine with me. Would you like that?”_

_“Mum and dad aren’t here” Grace had bit her lip as she’d explained, but at the concerned expression that had clouded Mrs Hiddleston’s face she had quickly corrected herself “They’re somewhere in South America I think? But Nanny Simpson is inside…”_

_A look of relief had washed over Diana Hiddleston’s face and then she had made a suggestion “Why don’t I pop around and speak to Nanny Simpson and we’ll see if you can come and join us in the garden for an afternoon picnic? That’s if you want to of course Grace?”_

_“Oh I’d love to!” she’d gasped out, before glancing down at Sarah and Tom’s face to check that they really wanted her there. The gleeful looks they’d exchanged at a potential new playmate had been enough to put her mind at rest._

*

And that was how she’d come to be best friends with Sarah. Sarah had started at Grace’s school that September, Tom in the reception class and soon Grace had almost forgotten what it felt like to be lonely.

They’d been inseparable ever since primary school, going on to the same boarding school, and being neighbours back home had only made their friendship all that much stronger. Sarah was the sister Grace had always wished for, and by extension Tom and Emma were her tolerated younger siblings. When Mr and Mrs Hiddleston had divorced Grace had felt the sadness almost as keenly as her friends, but she did her best to remain strong for Sarah and the others. Poor Tom had had to suddenly deal with being the only male in the household when he was home from boarding school and she knew it took a toll on him. But her main concern had always been her best friend. Just as Sarah had always been there for Grace when her parents frequently let her down, Grace was Sarah’s shoulder to cry on.

But then Sarah had been accepted to Cambridge and Grace moved up to Edinburgh to study English Language and Literature (much to her parent’s disappointment). The girls now only got to see one another in the holidays and they missed each other dearly. They spoke on the telephone and even wrote to one other weekly but it simply wasn’t the same. And their friendship, while still strong was reduced to long distance, with sporadic interactions.

For Grace it was like losing part of herself.

How she wished she’d had Sarah nearby when she’d discovered Joe and Alex together that night.

But no. Sarah had been in Cambridge and Grace had been too humiliated to tell any of her acquaintances in Edinburgh the _real_ truth behind why she and Joe had suddenly broken up. So instead she’d had to settle for sobbing down the telephone to her best friend who was hundreds of miles away – and who, in turn had threatened to come up there and kick Joe in the balls for upsetting her friend.

That, at least, had made Grace laugh for a brief moment.

But then the tears and humiliation has overcome her once more and Sarah had insisted that as soon as term ended – which thankfully had been in less than a fortnight – she should come and visit her in Cambridge and then they would return home and spend the summer together.

So here she was now, back in the Hiddleston’s kitchen at nineteen years of age, suddenly feeling almost as lonely and insecure as that six year old little girl in the apple tree all those years ago.

She gulped down two thirds of her drink in one go and almost choked again.

Jesus! She didn’t remember it being that strong!

_Oh well, in for a penny…_

Grace downed the rest of the drink. As she mixed herself another green concoction she had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched. She glanced around but could not see anyone. The kitchen was completely deserted and as she looked out over the garden and back towards the marquee there was a loud cheer as the music started up.

With a heavy sigh she stumbled back out into the garden, praying that the alcohol would kick in.

 _And fast_.

 

*******************************

_My Inspiration for 18 year old Tom:_

_And of course the ridiculously cute 4 year old who invites Grace to play:_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is my very first Tom fic so please be gentle with me! Feel free to comment and let me know what you think. I love to hear people's reactions and it is so appreciated :)
> 
> Additional note: The Winnie The Pooh reference was creepily coincidental by the way... I had already written most of this chapter before THAT image appeared!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues... and that can mean only one thing. 
> 
> Dancing.

Making her way across the lawn, the sound of [Praise You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruAi4VBoBSM) filled the warm evening air and Grace unconsciously started to wiggle her hips, not altogether in time to the music. She reached the marquee and peered inside. Spotting Sarah dancing, her spirits lifted a tiny bit more.

And then the realisation hit her.

She was home. Joe couldn’t hurt her here. She was back with her family.

With a renewed spirit she dashed across to her friend and threw her arms around her in an apologetic hug for her earlier testiness.

Sarah hugged her back. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing to forgive. Grace was her best friend and she’d had a tough few months. Tonight they were going to let their hair down and have some fun.

Grace began to feel the alcohol take effect and the two friends danced and sang along to the music without inhibition. The playlist seemed to be one energetic song after another, and after a particularly frenetic rendition of [U Can't Touch This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=otCpCn0l4Wo) came to an end (with both girls trying - and failing - to accomplish MC Hammer’s signature dance moves) Grace said as much to her friend, in between gasping breathes.

Sarah laughed “It’s all that bouncy Tigger over there's fault! I’d have thought you’d have guessed? You know he can’t keep still! Look…” Sarah turned her friend around to where a group of guests had formed a tight circle. In the centre Grace could just make out the bobbing head of Tom. But she had no idea what he was doing that had garnered so much attention. She cursed her short stature and turned to her friend shrugging her shoulders questioningly.

Sarah grabbed her hand and dragged her across the floor, pushing her through the mass of people until they were both positioned at the front of the circle.

Grace’s jaw dropped as she watched Tom dancing along to Sister Sledge’s [Lost in Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43qB9FpfCR8).

_Jesus that kid could move!_

Had he always been this good at dancing? She couldn’t recall.

Emulating the lyrics, Tom was oblivious to the crowd, completely lost in the rhythm of the music. His narrow hips rocked to the pulsing beat and the feet that Grace had earlier thought resembled a clowns suddenly began to glide across the floor with an effortless grace. His crazy curls were soaked with sweat and slicked across his tanned forehead but he made no effort to brush them away. Instead, his long arms acted as pistons as he pivoted around on the spot.

_What._

_The._

_Hell?!_

When did gangly awkward Tom suddenly morph into… into… _this?_

She could not bring herself to use the word that was on the tip of her tongue.

_She would not!_

_This was Tom after all._ Silly, giddy adopted little brother Thomas.

And this… _this_ … _No! She would not say it_ … this _boy_   was the same awkward fumbling giraffe who had earlier been stuttering and stammering as he spoke to her.

_Christ she must be drunker than she first thought!_

Grace tore her eyes away from him for a second to look around. Clearly she was not the only one impressed by his dance moves. The crowd were cheering him on now and there was a small group of girls she didn’t recognise across from her practically panting as they watched him. One girl in particular seemed to be doing everything in her power to catch his attention but Tom was in the zone and was completely oblivious.

The song came to an end but Tom barely stopped for air. He began to move in time to the opening notes of [Thriller](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOnqjkJTMaA) and the crowd erupted. Before Grace knew what was happening she was being dragged into the centre of the circle by Sarah and positioned alongside Tom. Sarah took her place on the other side of her brother and Grace had the sinking feeling she knew exactly where this was headed. A vague memory of the three of them dancing to this very song in the garden many, many years ago crossed her mind and she desperately tried to recall some of the zombie moves. Unfortunately she soon realised that drinking melon liqueur was not conducive to remembering old dance moves.

So Grace stumbled about, trying to fake it but she could only begin to imagine how ludicrous she must have looked in comparison to Tom… and wait… Sarah too!

She cursed her friend.  _She must surely have been practicing!_

Grace decided it was a damn good job she’d had a drink because she would have been mortified at her poor effort had she been sober. She was a terrible dancer at the best of times. Factor in the alcohol and it was a wonder she wasn't on the floor! If Tom noticed her out of sync dancing he at least had the good grace not to draw attention to it. And when she banged into him towards the end he grabbed her hand and twirled her around in an impromptu spin which left her dizzy. Somehow she made it to the end of the song without collapsing and as the crowd cheered again she stumbled towards them in an attempt to make her escape.

But Tom and Sarah had other ideas. She felt a pair of large hands grip her waist before pushing her through the parting crowd. She turned her head in shock and was met with a nervous grin and a quirked eyebrow from Tom, who was the one doing the pushing. Sarah was behind her brother and as the [Love Train](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyT9jTW7MHc) began in full force people joined onto the back. They snaked around the marquee, up towards the patio and back down again and all the while Grace tried not to think about the firm grip on her waist. The heat from Tom’s hands was burning through her thin cotton sundress and as they headed back down towards the marquee she could have sworn he actually gave her hips a quick squeeze. The throb that cheeky little squeeze ignited in her pussy was almost as big a shock as watching him dance, and Grace ground to a halt.

Her sudden break resulted in Tom lunging into the back of her and pushing her to the ground. He in turn overbalanced and barely stopped himself from crushing her as he fell on top of her. Only his quick thinking and his long limbs stopped the inevitable, and for that Grace was suddenly immensely grateful. Behind them, the other guests fought momentum and began to straighten themselves out, while down on the floor - still straddling her from behind - Tom was apologising profusely for pushing her over.

Grace lay face down in the grass, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she felt a pair of hands fumble to pull down the skirt of her dress which must have flipped up in the fall, exposing her underwear. The realisation that those hands had been the same hands that she’d reacted so violently to only moments earlier only made her blush even deeper and she let out a low groan.

“Shit! Grace are you okay? Have I hurt you?” Tom heard Grace’s groan and panicked. He had been somewhat distracted up until that point by the view of her curvaceous ass, barely covered by a tiny white thong. But then something had kicked in. Chivalry was probably taking it a stretch too far, given the raging hard-on that was now pressing insistently against the loose fabric of his jeans. But some sense of decency and an overwhelming need to look after Grace took over and he – albeit reluctantly – made her dress decent again. Tom pulled himself upright, praying to the Gods that no-one saw his erection in the twilight and offered his outstretched hand down to Grace.

Grace lay on the grass trying to pull herself together. Whatever the hell had just happened with Tom had to be the alcohol talking.

_Surely?_

Pushing herself up onto her knees she heard Sarah’s voice and turned, only to be confronted with a face full of Tom’s crotch which was now sporting a rather prominent bulge.

_Oh come the fuck on!_

Was this some warped dream? Had she fallen asleep and entered the twilight zone? When had she started perving over Tom? She really  _must_ be drunk. And if she wasn’t she definitely needed to be!

Ignoring Tom’s hand she stumbled back upright and brushed herself down. Sarah began fussing over her and she was vaguely aware of Tom's mortified face as her friend shook her head at him and pulled Grace away to check her over.

They moved over to the little bench at the rear of the garden, alongside the playhouse. Sitting Grace down, Sarah checked her over but it seemed the only thing bruised was her pride. She suddenly felt exhausted and said as much to Sarah.

“I might just call it a night, you know? I’ve made enough of a fool of myself for one night…”   

“Hey stop it! We’ve all had things happen that weren’t our fault. And what happened out there wasn’t yours. It was my clumsy ass brother’s fault. You were right, he is like a bloody giraffe!”

Grace felt bad for not correcting her friend’s analysis, but the truth was she couldn’t explain the way she’d reacted to Tom’s touch to herself, much less to his sister.

“Don’t be too hard on him Sarah. It was just an accident” she faked a smile then “but it probably is best if I go to bed before I end up involved in any more”

“Right… if you’re sure?” her friend looked at her in concern “You are still staying tonight though, aren’t you? I don't like the idea of you going home alone. Especially after that fall.”

“Of course I am! All my things are set up in the guest room. And don’t worry about me. Go back to the party. I’ll see you in the morning and we can start planning our summer”

The two friends hugged and Grace walked slowly back up towards the house. With each step she took her thoughts betrayed her, reminding her of Tom’s hips as he danced, the feel of his hands on her waist and the bulge in his jeans as he'd leant over her.

 _Damn it! There was that throb again_.

Grace sighed as she reached the kitchen. She cast a quick look back out across the lawn and, satisfied that she could no longer see her friend, grabbed the half empty bottle of Midori and headed upstairs to her room.

Yes. She _definitely_ needed to keep drinking…

Anything to stop the filthy thoughts running through her mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	3. Chapter 3

Grace woke with a start to a noise outside and tried to open her eyes. Disorientated, she immediately became aware of the pounding in her head and squeezed her eyes shut with a loud groan.

For a moment she was confused. That is, until she remembered the party.

And the melon liqueur…

_Eurgh!_

_She was never drinking again!_

_EVER!_

Slowly she opened her eyes again, taking care to keep her head as still as possible. Blinking, she waited for the room to come into focus.

When it finally did she furrowed her brow in confusion. The last thing she remembered was coming up to the guest room. What she could see in the darkened room certainly _looked_ like the guest room. But why could she see the bed?

Perplexed, Grace swiped her arms out to the side of her and hit a wall. Turning her head slowly - achingly - she realised she was slumped across the chaise under the window.

_What the hell?_

And then it all started coming back to her. Just like a bad dream.

The party.

 _Tom_.

Tom dancing.

Tom touching her.

Tom sprawled on top of her.

Tom’s bulging jeans in her face.

Another groan escaped her lips as the same throbbing feeling she’d earlier tried to neutralise with alcohol began to ache incessantly in her core.

She had the almost overwhelming desire to take care of the ache and her hand went as far as to delve under her dress, – _yes it appeared she really was classy enough to pass out fully clothed_ – but then she somehow managed to check herself.

_For fucks sake Grace! Get a grip woman._

Oh she'd like to get a grip of something right now...

_STOP IT!_

Reluctantly she pulled her hand away and tried to sit up. For a few seconds the room spun but thankfully it finally settled. She smacked her lips together. Her tongue felt like sandpaper and her throat was as dry as the Sahara. She’d definitely need to fix that in a minute.

In the meantime she stared out of the window almost trancelike as she tried to work out why she’d chosen the chaise rather than the comfortable bed as her place of rest.

Focusing her eyes down into the garden she vaguely remembered watching the partygoers as she continued to drink last night, but nothing else of any note came back to her.

With a bemused sigh she glanced down at her watch. It was a little before 3am. There was no way she would be able to get back to sleep without something to drink.

_And no. This time there would be no melon liqueur._

_Only water._

A wave of nausea hit her at the thought of the alcohol and she staggered upright, ready to make a dash to the bathroom. She groaned again as her head threatened to explode.

Thankfully the wave of nausea passed but she quickly made her decision.

She had some ibuprofen somewhere in her bag. She’d grab that, go and get a glass of water and then try to sleep off her hangover.

As she wobbled towards the door, painkillers in hand, she wasn’t altogether certain she wasn’t still drunk.

Oh well. At least when she was drunk she wasn’t fretting over her sorry little love life.

_Well, not as much as she usually would…_

Creeping on to the landing, Grace listened. The house was silent.

It was eerie actually.

She was so used to this house being a place of noise. It was a place of joy. And mischief. Of loud voices laughing, singing, joking and yes, occasionally arguing. But above all else… it was a place of love.

Gripping the bannister for support she tried to stave off the tears that always threatened when she contrasted this happy home with the lonely one she had grown up in, just a stone’s throw from where she stood.

Pushing those difficult thoughts away, she instead remembered all the wonderful times she’d shared in this old house and a smile began to form on her lips.

Reaching the kitchen, Grace flicked on the small light which lit up just the solid oak worktop. No way was she in any fit state for full on lighting. She ran the tap until the water was icy cold and filled a tall glass. Gulping back the contents in one go she filled it again and then swallowed the painkillers. She filled the glass a third time and then realised she should probably nip to the bathroom while she was downstairs, so as not to wake anyone. Thankfully she didn’t have to walk too far as there was a small bathroom located in the utility room. Having used the toilet, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

_Good God! She looked rough!_

Her thick dark hair resembled a bird’s nest, half tangled up and half stuck to her sweaty face. She quickly ran her fingers through the knots, trying to tame it - with little success. The rest of her reflection wasn’t much better. Her cheeks were flushed rosy red and her mascara had smudged. She grabbed some toilet paper and rubbed away the excess makeup before splashing some cold water over her heated cheeks.

Having finished her ablutions, Grace made her way back towards the glass of water but something caught her eye through the full length glass doors which led out onto the garden.

She squinted and there it was!

A small fox was running across the perfectly tended lawn with what looked like some leftover food scraps from the party. Grace quietly pushed open the unlocked patio doors – _that was a bit odd_ – and stepped out into the inky darkness. The fox startled and stopped for a second, its beady eyes settling on the young woman. When it assessed her as no threat it ran off into the tall hedgerow which separated the garden from the one next door.

The cool summer breeze made Grace’s heated skin pucker as she became covered in goosebumps, and she shivered involuntarily. But it was a pleasant feeling and she wandered further out into the garden, relishing the fresh air. It was a beautiful night and she stared up at the star speckled sky in wonder.

Grace had always been fascinated by the constellations and as she looked up she was able to pick out Draco and the dim outline of Hercules. She felt a little dizzy walking with her head up and she suddenly had a much better idea. There used to be a handheld telescope in the playhouse. Maybe it was still there!

She was suddenly wide awake at the prospect of stargazing (okay, maybe she _was_ still a little bit drunk after all) and she hummed cheerily to herself as she approached the large wooden playhouse.

Pulling the door open she took a step forward, feeling around for the light switch. But before she was able to find it her feet connected with something solid and she lost her footing, her somewhat intoxicated mind not able to process the need to stop the inevitable force of gravity as she lurched towards the ground.

Grace opened her mouth to shriek but nothing came out. She landed with a heavy thump and a hissed _“fuck!”_

It was only as she hastily started to right herself that she realised the voice hissing _“fuck!”_ hadn’t been her own.

She froze.

“Oh fuck!”

_Yes, this time it was Grace’s voice._

Because she recognised that voice.

_Oh fuckity fuck._

Grace’s shaking hands fumbled for purchase as she tried to push herself up. When they connected with the warm expanse of naked skin she knew she was in big trouble.

Lying underneath her was a very hot, and most definitely shirtless Tom…

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I love to play around with POV. So this chapter takes off right where we left Tom and Grace at the end of chapter three and is completely from Tom's POV until the final paragraph (which is denoted with an *)
> 
> Oh and let's slap a great big NSFW tag on this chapter... for reasons ;)

“Grace?” Tom’s voice was barely above a sleepy whisper as his head shot up in shock, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light filtering through the open playhouse door.

_Was this a dream?_

Tom’s hand slid out from down his boxers – _what? It was comforting!_ – and pinched his leg.

_Ouch!_

_Fuck! No he was definitely awake…_

It wasn’t just his brain that woke with that realisation.

Grace’s small hand on his bare chest was burning right through his skin and sending an intense transmission throughout his body with a very specific final destination.

_Christ! Here we go again._

Tom let out a groan as he felt himself go hard.

_Seriously man?_

_Again?_

_You’re a walking hard-on around her at the moment!_

He tried his best to put the thought out of his mind as realisation dawned on him that Grace still hadn’t spoken.

“Grace?”

The silence was unsettling.

The delicate hand that was still spread across his chest, barely grazing his left nipple, was even more so.

Because now he’d felt her hand on his skin he knew he would never be able to forget her touch. And worse. It was making him greedy for more.

“Grace?”

Tom’s voice rose almost to a desperate whimper as he lay underneath her, his cock throbbing as it pressed hard against the thin cotton of his boxers, which were in turn rubbing against the sleeping bag pulled taut under Grace’s body.

_Grace’s body._

Grace was above him, straddling his thighs… Her… _Oh fuck!_ Her pussy must be right above his cock!

_Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell was going on?_

“ _Grace!_ ” This time his voice was almost a shout, his growing frustration both at his situation and her continued silence finally getting the better of him.

And that’s when _she_ silenced _him_.

_With her lips._

Grace’s mouth came crashing down against Tom’s and he couldn’t stop the deep groan that bubbled up inside him. She didn’t seem to mind at all as she kissed him harder - almost feverishly - and with an intensity that made him respond, albeit nervously.

This was by no means his first time kissing a girl – _don’t be fooled, all boys boarding school pupils do see the outside world from time to time y’know!_ \- but it was absolutely his first time kissing a _woman_ …

And while Grace would always be the girl next door to him there was no doubting that she had matured into a beautiful young woman.

 _A beautiful young woman who was parting his lips with her tongue and panting heavily against his mouth_.

He took it all back.

He had _never_ been kissed like _this_ before!

For a moment they simply lay there, breathing one another’s heated breath and it was almost too much intensity for Tom to bear. His hips involuntarily bucked up but were met by the resistance of the restrictive sleeping bag and he groaned again in frustration.

His hands - which up until this point had still been wedged inside his sleeping bag - fought their way free, and moved hesitantly up to rake his long slim fingers through the curtain of dark tousled hair cascading down around his head.

Grace let out the tiniest sigh of pleasure, and Tom’s fingers moved back to cup her cheeks.

This time he wanted to be in control.

Tom pulled her mouth towards his own, licking his lips in eager anticipation. His tongue darted along Grace’s plump lower lip teasingly before plunging into her warm, welcoming mouth. His fingers tightened around her cheeks as he deepened the kiss and she responded in kind, taunting him with her tongue and nibbling at his own lower lip. They played this teasing game for some time before finally, Grace drew back from Tom’s mouth and pulled his hands free from her face - much to his disappointment.

That is, until she wriggled down his body a little and began kissing the naked skin of his neck.

Tom let out a low growl as her tongue licked at his prominent Adam’s apple, her nose nuzzling him as she lapped against his sweat soaked skin. He was burning up, and while he recognised that the sleeping bag was a contributing factor, he also knew the main cause was the hot woman currently straddling his throbbing cock through the sleeping bag, her clothed pussy now rubbing against him with her own heightened need.

His right hand, having been lying dormant, frantically groped around for the zipper of the sleeping bag, whilst the other found purchase on Grace’s right bum cheek. Tom squeezed it indulgently and Grace bucked hard against him, letting out a moan of pleasure which had him hell bent on getting out of that damn sleeping bag, even if it killed him! Unable to find the zipper he started cursing and kicking in frustration at the bedding and Grace quickly caught on.

She lifted her pelvis long enough for Tom to push the restricting article away and as it disappeared she lowered herself back down.

The meeting of Tom’s cotton clad erection and Grace’s arousal soaked thong was met with an almost animalistic growl from Tom. His left hand mirrored his right, gripping Grace’s ass as he pressed her core harder against his throbbing cock. His mind was delirious at the feeling. He’d dreamed of this for so long and while he’d always fantasised that it would be Grace who finally took his virginity, he’d never dared believe it would actually happen. These things didn’t happen to him. He was the friend. The brother. The confidante. And – unfortunately – in recent years, the butt of the joke.

_But this was really happening… right?_

Tom squeezed Grace’s ass tighter as if to make sure.

The moan which escaped her lips left him in no doubt.

Still. It suddenly occurred to him that Grace hadn’t uttered a single word since that startled “ _Oh fuck!”_ when she’d first entered the playhouse. Before he was able to contemplate what that meant her lips were back on his own. Meanwhile one of her hands had slid down his chest, further down until it was between his legs, cupping his balls.

“Fuck!” Tom hissed against her lips as Grace’s tongue sucked and teased his own. He closed his eyes, succumbing to her touch and willing himself not to come. He was already close.

Grace must have sensed as much as she pulled her hand away. Tom groaned in frustration, his hips bucking once more.

“ _Touch me Thomas!_ ”

Tom’s eyes flew open at Grace’s whispered voice in his ear, her hot breath on his neck making him shudder with excitement.

“W…w…where?” he stuttered in response, hardly believing what was happening.

“Everywhere…” she breathed, but when he hesitated her voice grew louder and she hissed “ _do it!_ ”

Immediately Tom’s large hands flew to her breasts, cupping them through the thin cotton fabric of her dress. As her nipples grew stiff under his touch he licked his lips.

_Christ! He wanted to suck them so badly!_

Biting his lower lip Tom’s hands slid around to the back of Grace’s dress and he fumbled around in search of the zipper.

_Fucking hell! What was it with him and zips tonight?!_

Sensing his frustration Grace pulled away and Tom moaned with disappointment. That is until Grace pulled the dress up past her waist and finally over her head, revealing her barely contained, lace clad, heaving breasts and soaked crotch to his lustful eyes for the first time.

He unclasped her bra with shaking fingers and tossed it alongside her discarded dress and leant back to admire her.

Even in the pale moonlight filtering through the doorway he could see her beauty. Her lips were plump and kiss bruised, her skin was glowing, bathed in perspiration and her chest was heaving.

_Oh fuck! Her tits were even better than he’d imagined…_

Eagerly Tom leant forward and took one of her already erect nipples between his lips and sucked hard.

“Ow… ouch… careful Tom!”

He pulled away like a scolded cat and she huffed “I didn’t say stop! Just be a little less rough…”

Suitably chastised his mouth returned to the same nipple and he licked it gently. Grace sighed in pleasure and this buoyed Tom on. Soon he was licking and sucking at one nipple while his hand groped the other breast. Grace began grinding down against him and he pulled his mouth away, gasping.

“Y... you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that!” he groaned.

Grace moaned wantonly and lifted herself up. She pulled first at her thong, throwing it over onto the pile of clothes before tugging at Tom’s boxers, already damp from their combined arousal.

As Tom’s rock hard cock was revealed he could have sworn Grace gasped in shock and he worried that something was wrong. But he was too scared to ask in case she was thinking of changing her mind.

All he could think about was ‘ _this was it!’_

He was finally going to do _it_.

_He was finally going to have sex!_

And it was going to be with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen… Grace!

He felt a single tear of pride fall onto his cheek and he wiped it quickly away, praying she hadn’t seen it.

_Women didn’t like weak, emotional men after all, did they?_

Still, he knew he was the luckiest fellow in the world right at that moment and he wanted to tell her so.

Tom opened his mouth to speak but Grace placed a finger over his lips and shushed him.

“Do you want me Thomas?” her question was almost a whisper and for the first time he thought he heard nerves in her voice.

“More than you would believe…”

“Oh I believe _this_ does…” Grace ground her now bare pussy against Tom’s straining cock and they both groaned at the sensation “But do _you_? Do _you_ want me Thomas? Will _you_ fuck me?”

“Yes! Oh God… Yes!” Tom’s heartfelt declaration disappeared from his conscious brain at that first skin to skin touch of their most intimate parts. It took every ounce of willpower not to just thrust up into her right then, but a terrible realisation flashed before him.

“Shit…I don’t… Grace… _I don’t have anything_ …” he moaned desperately. He’d never in his wildest dreams imagined he’d be needing condoms at his mum’s party!

“Aah….” Grace moaned and rubbed her pussy against Tom’s leaking cock “It’s fine. I’m on the pill…”

Tom gulped down the realisation of what that implied. He let out a strangulated sigh as he remembered the passing comment he’d inadvertently overheard between his mum and Sarah at Easter - “ _No, Grace won’t be home this time. She’s staying up in Edinburgh with her boyfriend”_. Tom had been devastated at that revelation and had been in a foul mood all Easter, much to his family’s exasperation.

_Fuck! Of course she would be on birth control. She has a boyfriend._

Wait.

She _has_ a boyfriend Thomas!

 _Christ! Could he do this?_ Was he _that_ kind of person?

Despite lying there, with Grace’s soft hands on his body - those delicate fingers of hers impatiently tracing his nipples into taut peaks and touching him in a way he’d only dared dream about - his conscience raised its ugly head and he had to face reality.

Was he willing to sabotage what he was _so_ close to experiencing by bringing up the elephant in the room?

“You have a boyfriend…”

As the words fell involuntarily from his mouth he immediately wanted to take them straight back. His heart pounded in his chest as nervous energy coursed throughout his tense body at the realisation he might just have made the biggest fucking mistake of his life so far.

“We broke up… Now will you _please_ shut up and fuck me Thomas?” Grace hissed, sitting upright astride him and rubbing her silky wet folds along his generous length.

_And that was his green light._

All bets were off as Tom’s shaking hand moved to his cock in preparation.

“I… I… haven’t done this much…” he nervously lied, not wanting Grace to know he was still a virgin. If she did she might go back to just thinking of him as a kid and change her mind. He couldn’t… _No! He wouldn’t risk that! Not now…_

If Grace had any hesitation at his statement she kept it quiet. Her only acknowledgement was to move her hands from his chest and brace them behind her, gripping his thighs. She lifted herself up just enough for Tom to place his leaking tip at her entrance and wriggled impatiently as he lay, suddenly transfixed at the sight of her - tits jutting out teasingly at him as her juices began to drip down onto his cock.

“ _So… help… me… God… Thomas_.. _!_ ” Grace growled impatiently.

Tom slowly began to push, his thick cock breeching Grace’s tiny entrance. She winced almost immediately and he stopped, panicking that he was doing something wrong.

“What… what is it? Am I hurting you?” he asked in concern.

“N…nothing” Grace spoke shakily and then paused. She sounded nervous and Tom began to freak out until she continued speaking “It’s just… you’re… well, you’re _big_ Tom… bigger than I’m used to!”

Tom gulped down his pride at that statement but Grace hadn’t quite finished.

“ _Much bigger…_ ” it was barely above a breathy whisper but Tom heard it and he couldn’t help the grin that began to spread across his face.

For a moment they remained like that – Tom grinning, dick in hand just breeching Grace’s opening, her walls quivering in expectation.

Then Grace pinched his thighs with her fingers and he yelped in pain, inadvertently bucking up further into Grace’s pussy. They both groaned at the feeling but Tom still felt the need to somehow reassure Grace.

“I… I won’t hurt you Grace… I promise” his voice was low, serious now and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he slowly, carefully pushed further into her tight channel. He was desperately trying to hold back but all he wanted to do was to sink as deep inside her white hot heat as he possibly could.

Grace moaned and Tom couldn’t be certain if it was in pleasure or pain, but when he stopped to check she squeezed his thighs again and he took that as his cue to continue. When he was finally completely seated Grace’s inner walls responded to him, gripping his shaft tightly and Tom let out a deep growl.

_Fuck!_

This was _nothing_ like his hand! She was so damn tight! He could feel her walls squeezing him almost in resistance. Worriedly, he looked up at her but Grace’s head was thrown back, her pert tits taunting him again as her back arched them tantalisingly close, yet just out of his reach.

Grunting in frustration, Tom pulled Grace down so that they lay chest to chest and rolled them over with an authority that shocked him.

Before Grace could even respond Tom’s mouth was on her nipple, suckling at the taut bud as his large hand easily cupped her other breast.

Slowly Tom withdrew his cock almost to the tip, all the while still lapping at her sensitive nipple before thrusting deep in one single movement. He groaned against her breast and Grace’s fingers slid up into Tom’s sweat soaked curls, tugging at them needily.

Tom growled and it was as if something had been unleashed inside of him. The air mattress bounced wildly as he began to thrust repeatedly, no longer able to control the speed or rhythm. A chorus of gasps and pants rose up in the playhouse as the two of them completely forgot their innocent surroundings - thin lips crashed against kiss bruised fuller ones; eager hands pawed at one another, one large hand cupping a full breast while a much smaller one groped at an ass cheek.

“ _Oh fuck… Grace… God…Yes! Fuck… Oh God…”_ Tom’s incoherent ramblings filled the still night air but he couldn’t have stopped now even if he wanted to. Grace was less vocal, the only sounds coming from her pretty lips being groans and gasps, but he took those as a good sign.

He was close.

_So fucking close._

He was holding back for dear life, not wanting this feeling to end, not wanting this connection between himself and Grace to be severed. But as he thrust hard into her - his pulsating cock somehow plunging deeper than it had ever been - he felt her walls grip him tighter and he couldn’t stop the inevitable. Grace let out a loud moan, her face contorted into a grimace but Tom was oblivious, mistaking her moaning for something else altogether.

His head was thrown back and he grunted _“I… I… can’t…. I can’t stop… I… I’m_ …. _oh fuck me Grace!_ … _I’M COMING!”_ and with a deep roar his cock twitched as he unloaded everything he had into Grace’s quivering depths.

Euphoric - and unable to hold himself upright for even a second longer - he collapsed onto Grace’s sweat soaked body and she let out a muffled gasp of pain.

“ _Shit!_ I’m so sorry Grace… _fuck!_ ” Tom realised his rookie mistake and immediately rolled off of her - his cock still twitching as it slid out of her wet heat – and onto his back as he gasped for air.

Grace let out another low wince and Tom instantly turned back towards her, pulling her closer so that they were lay face to face.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked, still panting “Did I…” he nervously licked his lips and continued “did I _hurt_ you?”

“No… It’s… _fine!_ ”

Tom thought he sensed something in Grace’s voice but he’d never been in this position before.

_Was this what women were like after sex?_

She was breathing heavily still, just like him. But other than that she seemed quiet, a little zoned out even. He felt ecstatic – _like he wanted to sing and dance, butt naked, on the rooftop of the playhouse_ \- yet somehow also knackered. Grace was maybe… half the size of him? If _he_ was tired she must be exhausted.

_Right?_

And he _had_ asked her, hadn’t he...

Yet something still niggled at him but there was _no way_ he was going to ask her _that_ now. He sensed this was not the time when she kissed him gently on the lips and whispered goodnight, before turning so that her back was to his chest.

 _He was right!_ She was just tired.

He snuggled closer, nuzzling his chin into her shoulder and snaking one long arm around her midriff possessively.

Grace’s body tensed initially but soon relaxed into him, and, bone tired, sated, and feeling like the king of the world, Tom quickly fell into a deep, satisfied slumber.   

 

*

Lying in Tom’s warm embrace, Grace tried to switch off her brain. She listened to Tom’s deep, even breaths as he slept peacefully and prayed for the same escape from reality.

The last thing which crossed her mind as she finally succumbed to sleep was in stark contrast to Tom’s adoring thoughts and dreams.

_What had she done?_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should apologise for the feels at the end of the chapter...
> 
> But there are reasons and these will become apparent in future chapters so.... Please just trust me! I promise I know where this is headed but I can't promise there won't be a few bumps in the road along the way.
> 
> Thank you SO much to everyone who has read, commented and left kudos so far. It really means so much to know there are people out there enjoying my silly little musings! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before. Or should that be the morning after the earlier morning before...

The sound of the [dawn chorus](https://audioboom.com/boos/4113475-the-dawn-chorus) filtered through the open doorway of the playhouse, breaking through Grace’s fitful sleep.

Completely disorientated, she groggily stretched, her back arching with a satisfying click and causing her lips to part with a small sigh of pleasure. That is, until a deep moan close behind startled her.

Her eyes flew open.

Just as her surroundings came into focus, a large, warm hand enveloped her left breast and squeezed possessively, forcing a soft moan from her own lips despite the rising panic in her chest.

“Morning beautiful” the voice was gravelly from sleep but still unmistakeably familiar.

Tom.

Oh shit!

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuucckk…._

_“Oh Gracie!”_   Tom’s voice grew excited “Your heart is racing just like mine! I _knew_ you’d felt it! I knew you’d felt it too Grace!”

Had Tom of seen the confusion in Grace’s already panicked eyes, he would surely have at least reined back a little of his boyish exuberance. But as his lightly stubbled chin nuzzled against the nape of her neck, pressing feather-light kisses as he did, he was not afforded that luxury - so he blindly carried on.

“You must remember?! All those years ago… It was _me_ who asked you to come over the fence to play!”

Tom placed a deeper kiss on Grace’s back before continuing “ _I_ saw you up in the tree the day we moved in! _Only me._ It was like there was some unearthly connection between us. I thought you were a fairy! You looked so sad… but you were _so_ beautiful!” Tom let a deep breath “You _are_ so beautiful!”

He pressed his nose into her soft skin and inhaled with a deep groan, bucking his hips – _and his morning glory_ \- involuntarily against her bare bottom.

“And I’ve wanted you for myself ever since…”

Grace’s already panicked eyes widened at his words.

_Christ! What the fucking hell was that even supposed to mean? He’d been four years old for goodness sake!_

_This was some crazy shit… Clearly he wasn’t thinking straight._

She opened her mouth to speak but Tom’s hand squeezed her breast again and despite herself, Grace responded by arching her back once again, and all that escaped her lips was a low whimper as she inadvertently brushed harder against Tom’s stiff member.

Tom let out another groan, this time almost akin to a growl, and Grace felt the traitorous flood of arousal between her thighs.

_No!_

This could not happen again.

Last night had been an accident. Just a crazy, spur of the moment thing.

She’d been drunk.

Yeah. _That was it_.

She’d been drunk. And upset. And she’d wanted to get back at Joe.

_But Joe wasn’t even here Grace!_

_Yes, but Tom was!_ And _he’d_ wanted her.

_He'd wanted her..._

_Even if Joe hadn’t._

It had hardly been the fairy tale that people sometimes talked about, but it had served its purpose.

But to do it again? No. She couldn’t do that to Tom.

She couldn’t lead him on…

Grace forced herself to ignore the way her body was responding to his kisses, his touch and to that voice.

_Jesus when had his voice got so deep?_

Had it been like that last night? Last year?

_When?_

She furrowed her brow, desperately trying to cast off the feelings which were threatening to overtake the rational part of her brain as Tom continued to kiss her back, whispering in that deep, almost honeyed tone, yet still somewhat gravelly from sleep.

_“Grace… Oh Grace… my beautiful, beautiful Gracie…”_

“Stop it!”

Grace immediately cursed the harshness in her voice and bit her lip. However her words did at least have one effect.

Tom stopped kissing her and pulled back slightly.

“W… what… is it?”

And there was the nervous, worried tone from last night once more.

_Shit!_

Even though she knew she had to do this, she didn’t relish saying the words. Not one bit.

“Tom…”

_Rip the Band-Aid off. That’s what they say you should do, isn’t it?_

“G… Grace? What’s going on?” Tom’s voice interrupted. It was louder now, somewhat whiny and her impatience began to get the better of her.

“Shush Thomas! You need to listen to me…”

She could just imagine Tom’s big blue puppy dog eyes wincing as she called him Thomas again. _Not that he’d seemed to mind last night as she recalled…_

_Focus!_

Just then Grace heard a noise outside.

It was the loud creak of the garden gate opening and closing.

She immediately froze.

Tom’s hand - which was still positioned over Grace’s breast - froze too.

_Oh Jesus Fucking Christ!_

No… This could not be happening.

She couldn’t be caught here. Not with the son and heir!

And most certainly not in flagrante delicto!

Pulling Tom’s hand roughly away, Grace quickly pushed herself to the edge of the air mattress, cursing the creaks and hisses which it emitted with every tiny movement and which seemed to echo in the otherwise silent early morning air.

“What… w…where are you going?” Tom’s confused whisper behind her broke through her anxiety and she was suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness. There had been something about the cloak of darkness - _and yes, the alcohol_ \- which had afforded Grace some much needed confidence last night. But in the cold light of day that self-confidence had swiftly evaporated.

Ignoring Tom she bent over, one arm now trying to hide her breasts, and awkwardly fumbled about on the floor in search of her underwear.

A gasp from behind made her aware that Tom was still watching her. At the same time, she realised her naked ass was stuck in the air as she bent forward, searching without success, and her cheeks grew crimson imagining what else he must be able to see. She quickly sat up straight and turned back to him, her left arm still feebly attempting to cover her ample breasts, while her right hand covered her more intimate parts.

“Tom I can’t get caught here! I need my…” her voice trailed off at the sight of Tom staring at her, his own cheeks flushed as his lustful eyes raked over her barely covered body and back up to her anxious face.

But it wasn’t his hooded eyes that had made her gasp – regardless of their cerulean liquescence. No, it was the sight of him lying there – completely at ease – utterly breath-taking in his nakedness.

As Grace quickly took in his lean musculature her eyes involuntarily fell to his cock, long and thick as it stood proudly to attention, while he lounged – unashamedly stark bollock naked - propped up on one elbow with one impossibly long leg bent upwards. In his current pose he was reminiscent of some Greek God.

It was most disconcerting!

Biting her lip and trying her best to stop focusing on that thing – _Jesus! No wonder it had hurt!_ – Grace coughed and set her eyes firmly back on Tom’s, ignoring the almost desperate need they were projecting back at her.

“Tom… I _need_ my clothes!” she pleaded with renewed urgency “whoever opened that gate could come down here any minute now and I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants one of your sisters… or worse, _your mother_ … catching me like _this!_ ” Grace’s eyes flicked down first to her own state of undress and then to Tom’s, before watching as Tom’s eyes widened finally in realisation “or for that matter… _you... like that!_ ”

Tom glanced down at his straining cock and groaned in frustration before rolling over and bending down as he searched the floor. It gave Grace the perfect opportunity to now ogle _his_ ass and however much she tried to ignore it, there was no denying it was very easy on the eye. How could someone so skinny – _no... he wasn't all that skinny after all... lean was a far better description_  – have such a peach of an ass?

Her fingers twitched as the flesh memory of her squeezing the aforementioned peachy bottom returned to her and she bit back a moan, not realising Tom had already turned back and was now watching her curiously.

“I have your dress… and your… your erm… bra…” Tom was nervously licking his lips now as he dangled the garments out towards Grace on the tips of his elegant fingers.

Grace was steadfastly still trying to protect her modesty. But time was ticking mercilessly on.

“Pass them here then please!” she hissed impatiently.

Tom appeared to flinch again at her tone but she didn’t have time for niceties. Almost petulantly he threw them towards her and instinctively her hands flew out to catch them, in the process completely forgetting her modesty.

Tom’s eyes bulged like some cartoon character at her breasts bouncing as she let them go and she couldn’t help but to giggle then at the whole absurd situation.

_Christ, he’d had his cock inside her only a few hours earlier for goodness sake!_

This was absolutely no time to be prudish.

Doing her best to give off a casual air of nonchalance, Grace snapped on her bra and pulled the dress over her head. She knew Tom was probably still eagerly watching her and the evil part of her brain might just have forced her to wiggle her hips a little more than was strictly necessary as she smoothed the dress down, finally covering what little of her modesty remained.

Turning back towards Tom she noted he had at least pulled on his boxers. However, his cock was still straining obscenely against the soft fabric, and she couldn’t help but to stare at it, unconsciously licking her lips.

Catching her reaction, Tom’s hand fell to the clothed bulge, stroking it as a low hiss escaped his thin lips “Fuck Grace! See what you do to me… I’m gonna be like this all day now, knowing how you feel around my dick…”

Grace involuntarily clenched at his words.

_Do it now Grace! Do it right this bloody second before you break this poor boys heart good and proper._

Grace released the lip that she had somehow begun to bite and opened her mouth to speak.

_“Woof!”_

Both pairs of eyes turned towards the open door where an elderly golden retriever stood watching them keenly.

“Hey Muffin! When did you get back girl?” Tom spoke affectionately to the family pet, his face immediately relaxing as she clambered up and rubbed her nose enthusiastically against Tom’s outstretched leg “Mum sent her over to Mrs Arthur’s. Muffin doesn’t like too much noise anymore and Mum thought the party might spook her. That’s what that sound must have been Grace!" he suddenly realised "It must have been Mrs A dropping her back off…”

Tom waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Grace now that he knew they were not in any immediate danger of getting caught.

“I can put her back outside if you want while we continue where we….”

“Never mind the bloody dog Tom!” Grace interrupted in frustration, ignoring Tom’s intimation. _Clearly he was not getting the hint!_ “And we won’t be continuing _anything!_ Where’s my damn thong? I need to get back inside…”

With a sulky huff Tom shrugged his shoulders and continued to pet the dog.

Grace’s anger began to grow, knowing that with each second she remained there the chances of getting caught also grew.

“ _Fine!_   Well _I’m_ fucking going before I get caught _Thomas!_ ” she hissed his name crossly, knowing it would wind him up “As and when you _do_ find it, I’d like it back please!”

And before Tom could say another word she’d poked her head out of the playhouse door, and - having noted the coast was clear – crept quickly across the lawn, her bare feet damp from the morning dew by the time she reached the kitchen and the safety of the house.

The glass of water that she'd abandoned much earlier that morning still sat on the worktop and with a sigh of relief she gulped it down in one go, before creeping back up the stairs to the guest room.

Now all she had to do was hope that Tom had got the message and would keep his mouth shut.

Unfortunately Grace’s gut was already sensing it was not going to be quite that simple…

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Tom's POV

Tom sat, mouth agape as Grace crept out, leaving him confused, hurt and more than a little frustrated.

_What the hell just happened?_

To say he was perplexed was an understatement.

_What had he expected though? To shag all morning in his mum's garden and then skip back into the house hand in hand?_

Despite the utter stupidity of that idea his cock still twitched at the thought. But the honest truth was that last night had been a dream come true for him. The painful evidence of her parting words pointed to it being much less significant to Grace, but was she just freaking out about getting caught?

_Or had it meant nothing at all?_

If it had been a meaningless fuck surely she would have just got dressed again straight afterwards and gone back into the house? _Wouldn’t she?_

But she’d kissed him and allowed him to cuddle her…

Tom’s mind wandered back to the feel of her body pressed up against his and his euphoria of waking to find her _still_ in his arms. And not only _in_ his arms - he had been groping one of her tits! And screw _anyone_ who said she hadn’t been enjoying that! She'd been making the same noises as last night and rubbing her arse against him while he’d been kissing her back.

She hadn’t pushed him away then. That had to mean something. _Right?_

Replaying the events of barely ten minutes ago he stroked his fingers over the crumpled sheet that covered the air mattress where she’d slept.

There was still the faintest hint of warmth under his fingertips.

Wanting to relish what little of it remained he stretched his hand and placed the palm flat over the soft cotton and gently stroked up and down, locking the sensation into his memory. His heart hurt already at the loss and he gulped back a tear as his imagination went to a dark place for the briefest moment.

But the facts spoke for themselves, didn’t they?

Tom remembered the soft sigh of pleasure that Grace had gasped as she’d rubbed her glorious arse against his dick when she’d woken him. And he’d felt her heartbeat racing – _right under his fingertips!_

She couldn’t fake _that_.

_Could she?_

He remembered watching her as she’d searched for her clothes, her arousal glistening between her folds as she’d bent forward.

You _definitely_ couldn’t fake that.

_Could you?_

So why then had she been so off-hand with him?

Tom’s brain ached almost as much as his cock as he lay, propped up on one elbow, his brow furrowed as he tried to fathom what the hell had happened and perhaps more importantly, where they went from here.

Had he been older he’d maybe have had more experience, and been able to recognise any sign of duplicity. But as far as _he_ remembered it Grace had enjoyed herself last night. The noises she’d made told him that much…

_Hadn’t they?_

And he’d done himself proud - _for a virgin_ \- hadn’t he? She’d _come_ after all.

_Hadn’t she?_

He remembered the way her pussy had squeezed him just before he’d exploded inside her, her gasps and moans and the way she’d dug her nails into his arse right as he’d come.

Okay… So Grace hadn’t sounded like the woman he’d seen in that dodgy German porno his cousin had shown him last summer… But he was kind of relieved about that if he was being totally honest.

_That woman had bloody scared him!_

_But hey! He knew there was definitely an element of ‘acting’ involved in those kinds of films._ _Being a burgeoning actor himself he understood you had to commit to a role…_

So he wasn’t really worried about Grace’s lack of, _well…_ ‘flamboyance’. Grace was much more reserved. And in some ways still painfully shy around people she’d known for years.

_But not usually him…_

Ignoring that, he remembered that some kid at school had smuggled a copy of Playboy into the dorm a few years back and he’d nicked it one night, intending to have a wank in the bathroom. But he’d ended up reading the articles. There had been one about orgasms. He vaguely remembered reading something about some people going into a kind of strange headspace… _maybe that’s what happened to Grace?_

Either way, she certainly hadn’t screamed – _of course that might just have been because of the circumstances_ – but she’d definitely made a lot of quieter noises.

His cock twitched again at the memory of her gasps and moans. Whatever the deal was, his hard-on was going nowhere. Listening carefully for any sounds from outside he decided he probably had enough time for a quick wank before he headed back up to the house.

_Then he’d speak to Grace and sort out all this confusion. Yeah it was just a bit of nervous miscommunication…_

Tom’s free hand slid into his boxers unashamedly as he laid his head back down onto the pillow – turning and nuzzling his nose into the side where Grace’s head had rested – and inhaling her now familiar scent.  

As he pulled his cock free and slowly began stroking himself he closed his eyes, imagining it was Grace who was touching him. But then he remembered that her hand had never touched his cock and he groaned. _He would have to do something about that next time…_ He did remember her cupping his balls though.

_Fuck! That had been so hot…_

Tom’s other hand eagerly pushed his boxers back down his thighs and began to stroke his balls in time with his other hands’ movements. It wasn’t anywhere near as hot as feeling Grace’s delicate hands on him, but his mind filled with flashbacks: of her mouth on his; his mouth on her tits; her wet pussy on his cock; his cock thrusting wildly into her tight pussy; him shooting his load…

_“Aaaaaah… Fuck!”_

Tom came violently in his hand, any worries about Grace cast aside as he finally allowed his mind _and body_ to relax for the first time since he’d woken.

As he lay there, catching his breath - the evidence of his earlier frustration now settling across his belly - he started to formulate a plan of action.  

His gut feeling was that potentially there could be something great between Grace and himself. They’d known each other most of their lives. He _trusted_ her. Grace wasn’t the kind of person to use somebody.

And _she’d_ come to him… _right?_

It _had_ to mean something.

It had to.

With renewed determination Tom grabbed his shirt from the floor and wiped his belly dry. Then he pulled his boxers back on and slipped on his jeans. Gathering the bedding into a pile along with his discarded sleeping bag and soiled shirt, he figured he’d go shower and grab some breakfast before tidying away his things.

_And then he had a woman to woo._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Apologies for the brevity of this chapter. It just kind of felt like a natural place to pause before all the madness...  
> Wait. Did I say madness? Ooh spoilers sweetie's! *sneaks away*


	7. Chapter 7

Grace sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands, staring down at the almost empty alcohol bottle in disgust.

Meanwhile, the nagging voice in her head grew louder.

_What had she been thinking?_

In a few short hours of madness she’d potentially set the wheels in motion to destroy her entire support network. She had to stop them before things got out of hand and she was back to being completely alone again…

Her heart sunk at the memory of her six year old self, alone in the tree. She could not - _No!_   - she  _would_ not go back to that.

She’d taken advantage of Tom. She’d _known_ he’d liked her for a long, long time – although she’d always told herself it was just in a brotherly way. Whenever they were all together he’d eagerly followed her around like a puppy. But how was she supposed to know he’d had such strong feelings for her? It wasn’t like she was anything special. Boys generally didn’t fancy her. They’d always preferred Sarah’s tall elegance to her own rather diminutive stature. And Tom had never given any inkling of this kind of feeling towards her.

_Had he?_

Grace sighed as a million and one childhood memories flooded her brain, and she tried to pinpoint the pivotal moment that she _must_ have missed. Should she have noticed him more? He had just been the irritating yet strangely loveable younger brother, always there. Always pestering his sisters – _and her_. Always wanting to play with them. Insisting that they all have roles in the silly little plays he and his cousin used to write.

Grace used to miss the three of them desperately that week each summer when they’d pack up and visit their aunt. She’d spend her time alone in her bedroom reading, or sat in her tree, as she tried not to count down the minutes until they all returned.

But when they did, they always came home armed with exciting new ideas for games and adventures to act out in the Hiddleston's sprawling garden.

Tom would always insist Grace was the heroine – a role that she neither relished nor felt she was particularly cut out for. She was by no means a natural actress. But he’d _always_ insisted. Had that been Tom’s way of telling her?

Surely not. They were just _kids_ for heaven’s sake!

It was just circumstance. Tom was the only boy so naturally he was the hero. It would probably have been weirder if he’d chosen one of his sisters to be the heroine! And so that only left her…

The Cinderella to his Prince Charming. The Lois to his Superman. The Leia to his Han. The Marion to his Indy - _You get the picture!_

But it had been completely innocent.

_Hadn’t it?_

So when had Tom’s feelings towards her grown into this – whatever _this_ truly was? She sighed at the recollection of his romantic outpourings earlier on in the playhouse as he’d showered her in kisses. Despite her shock, she couldn't help but admit it had felt nice to be touched so… so _lovingly._

_No!_

Let’s not even go _there_.

It was infatuation. Plain and simple. Chances are it was just because she was one of the few females who seemed to always be around that he wasn’t actually related to!

 _Yeah. He’d be fine once he got to university and started mingling with women on a daily basis..._ He’d easily find himself someone much more worth his time and effort.

And anyway, maybe Tom’s words had just been the remnants of the alcohol talking? He had been drinking too, she remembered. Or maybe he was just trying to play at being a gentleman. He _was_ just a boy after all…

Barely legal for one thing!

 _Oh Christ!_ He _was_ legal, _wasn’t he?_

Fuck…

_When was his birthday again?_

_Shit!_

Grace wracked her brain trying to remember. Oh she was a terrible, _terrible_ person. How long had she known this family and yet she couldn’t even fucking remember when Tom’s birthday was!

Clambering back up off the bed, with a groan of embarrassment-tinged frustration, she began pacing back and forth trying to remember.

And then finally it came to her. _February!_ \- Well thank fuck for that at least. She couldn’t remember the exact date. But it was roughly around the same time as her mum’s. At that thought her stomach lurched. She couldn’t remember the date of her own mother’s birthday either.

She sat heavily onto the rolled edge of the chaise near the window at that realisation.

Ask her the date of Sarah’s, Emma’s - _even Diana’s_ – birthdays and Grace could tell you them all, along with the year without a seconds hesitation. But she’d momentarily forgot her own mothers…

_She really was a shit person._

And Tom…

Okay so at least he _was_ eighteen.

Eighteen.

 _Barely_ eighteen…

_And he’s your best friend’s younger brother._

_Right! Yes_. Sarah and Emma’s brother. Bouncy Tigger Tom. _The boy you’ve never once paid any interest in before now Grace, s_ he quickly reminded herself.

The boy you’ve often ridiculed and teased.

Your Han. Your Indy. Your Superman.

 _Your Prince Charming_ …

_Stop it!_

Oh this was just such a fucking mess!

Why the hell had she drunk so much last night? Why had she ended up in the playhouse?

_And why the fuck had Tom been sleeping in the bloody playhouse anyway?_

Grace suddenly realised she had absolutely no idea why Tom had even been in there. It wasn’t as if the Hiddleston’s were short of rooms or anything. Each child had their own bedroom. And there was the guest room too – the one she was sat in right now, staring absentmindedly out of the window and over towards the playhouse.

_Well, you had been a little bit too pre-occupied to ask… sticking your tongue down Tom’s throat!_

She shivered at the memory, not altogether sure the reaction was one of displeasure. But no. She could not go  _there_. Not again. She had to nip this in the bud before everything started to implode. It was going to be hard enough to look her friends in the eye this morning as it was. Not to mention Diana.

She’d betrayed her hospitality and their friendship. _All_ their friendship. In one impetuous moment. There was no room in her head – or her heart - for silly feelings now.

A wave of nausea suddenly washed over Grace and she opened the window wide enough to lean forward over the windowsill and get a blast of fresh air into her lungs, momentarily settling her queasy stomach. It was still early, and the oppressive heat of the British summertime had not yet filled the garden.

Grace closed her eyes and took another deep, cleansing breath, trying to temper the growing disquiet in her head as the cool breeze wafted across her cheeks and through her thick tresses. A lock of hair fluttered across her nostrils and she breathed in again, her eyes flying open as she inhaled _his_ scent.

His scent was in her hair. On her body. _Inside her body._

Now that she had got that waft, it seemed to be _everywhere_. Intoxicating her. The hairs on her arms sprung up as she shivered and her heartbeat quickened in response.

It was as if he had marked her in some way. She closed her eyes again and licked her lips - and she could _taste_ him. That salty, sweet tang from his skin, quite unlike anything she’d tasted before. Gliding her tongue along her lip she could taste it just as true as if it had actually _been_ his skin.

A small whimper escaped her lips.

_Enough!_

She could not waiver. She was just being ridiculous again. Last night had just been a stupid, silly mistake. Tom would agree.

Tom _had_ to agree _._

The alternative was far too scary to contemplate.

Grace opened her eyes again - intent on cleansing her lungs one more time before she cleansed her body of any trace of Tom – when her breath caught.

Down below, making his way across the lawn was a shirtless Tom. He was walking with the air of someone completely at peace with himself and the world around him.

Before Grace could pull her head back inside and hide, Tom looked up towards the open window.

As their eyes connected, Tom gave her a soft smile of acknowledgement and in that single moment she had the precognition that things were going to get a whole lot more complicated than she had even begun to envision.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I promise things will start to speed up from the next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has commented and left kudos so far. I'm truly overwhelmed at the response. Thank you all for reading! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Tom POV chapter

Tom couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he stared up at the open window. Grace was staring back at him, her cheeks rosy and he couldn’t help but to wonder how he’d got so lucky.

 

 

He was just about to blow her a kiss when the patio door opened and his mum stepped outside, calling out for Muffin. He quickly lowered his hand and turned, watching as the dog came running out from behind the playhouse and bounded up towards the house.

“Morning mum!” Tom shouted sprightly as Diana waved at him.

“Morning sweetheart. Did you sleep okay down there?”

Tom chanced a quick glance up at the guest bedroom but Grace was no longer anywhere in sight.

Disappointed, his smile fell fleetingly but he quickly recovered himself, jogging up the steps and wrapping his arms around his mum in a hug.

“Yeah. I slept like a baby” he grinned.

“That be as it may, but you don’t _smell_ like a baby!” Diana wrinkled her nose and pulled away “Go get a shower. Aunt Mary’s already left so your bedroom is free again”

Tom ambled up the stairs, humming away to himself. Reaching the top of the landing he paused outside the guest room door, contemplating knocking on it and speaking to Grace straight away. However the creak of floorboards made him jump and he remembered her earlier words _“I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants one of your sisters… or worse, your mother… catching me…”_   Okay so that had been because they were both naked. But still. Maybe she wanted to play it low key, _at_ _least for now_.

He could do that.

_He would do anything for Grace._

He had just reached the door to his own bedroom when the bathroom door creaked open behind him. Turning, he caught a glimpse of Grace rushing across to her room, a fluffy blue towel wrapped tightly around her lovely curves. Her skin was still moist from the shower and the sheen immediately reminded him of the sweat soaked body that had been pressed against his own, only hours earlier.

Stifling a groan, he opened his mouth to speak but before he could get any words out she had disappeared into the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Tom sighed and walked into his own room. Quickly shrugging off his jeans he grabbed his towel and made his way back to the bathroom before anyone else had a chance to hog all the hot water. If there was one thing he’d learnt growing up with sisters, it was that if you snooze, you lose.

Tom showered quickly, resisting the urge to stroke his semi-hard cock – the by-product of seeing Grace in nothing more than a towel – and choosing instead to turn the water temperature down and reluctantly wash away all trace of her from his skin. He dried off, wrapping his towel loosely around his hips before shaking the excess moisture from his curls in a manner not unlike that of a dog. As he brushed his teeth he couldn’t help but to grin at himself in the mirror, all the time daydreaming about Grace.

A loud knock on the door made him jump and he quickly spat out the foam from the toothpaste.

“Um… just a minute” he called, rinsing his mouth.

Emma was leaning wearily against the wall as Tom opened the door.

“Morning sis!” he grinned cheerily down at her as he stepped out of the bathroom and leant against the door frame.

“Ugh… shut up!” she growled at him, barely stifling a yawn “why does everybody have to be up so early? It’s the holidays!”

“That’s right Em! It’s the holidays! The sun is already out! The birds are singing! It’s gonna be a _beautiful_ day!” Tom grinned back at his younger sister’s miserable face.

“You really do talk some bullshit sometimes Tom!” Emma hissed, rolling her eyes.

“You’d better not let mum hear you use that language!” a reprimanding voice behind them made them both jump

“Sarah’s right” Tom whispered, still grinning “but as I’m in _such_ a good mood I won’t say a word sis” he winked and tapped his finger to his nose conspiratorially.

Both sisters rolled their eyes at Tom - clearly wondering what the hell had gotten into their brother - knowing full well that on any other day he’d likely have galloped down the stairs to grass Emma up.

But Tom didn’t care today.

Nothing was going to bring him down.

Emma shuffled past Tom into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face. He stood, elbow still leaning against the door frame, grin still firmly in place.

“And what the hell’s got into you?” Sarah squinted her eyes, observing her brother’s smug demeanour “If I didn’t know better I’d say you _finally_ got laid!”

Tom’s forehead pinched for the briefest second - _How did she know? Was it **that** obvious he had been a virgin?_ \- but he quickly recovered. Grace hadn’t seemed to notice. Nor minded.

_And he wasn’t about to let Sarah rain on his parade!_

“Ehehehe” he laughed, a little nervously “I’m just excited for summer that’s all! What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing… I guess” Sarah continued to watch him curiously. Clearly she wasn’t buying any of it.

“Right… Well I’m not going to stand here all day arguing about why I should be allowed to bloody well smile! Mum’s started breakfast, and I could eat a horse!”

With that Tom turned and hastily made his way back to his room. He dressed quickly, pulling on his favourite T-shirt and shorts, before heading back downstairs following his nose as the scent of frying bacon wafted out of the kitchen.

His stomach growled loudly. He hadn’t been lying. He had worked up an appetite and he was famished!

“Ah Tom, be a love and set the table will you?”

Tom looked around the empty kitchen. The girls - and of course, Grace - were nowhere to be seen. Pushing down his disappointment he grabbed a stack of plates and started laying them out on the table, followed by the cutlery. Diana placed the final dish of food on the table and Tom immediately grabbed a sausage, shoving it whole into his mouth, ignoring his mum’s disapproving tut. She walked out into the hall, shouting up the stairs.

“Breakfast! You’d better get yourselves down here girls before Tom eats the lot!”

Tom sat himself down and started loading up his plate. He had just shovelled a huge forkful of scrambled eggs and bacon into his mouth when the three girls wandered into the kitchen. His eyes went immediately to Grace’s and his breath caught at their somehow haunted beauty, making him wriggle uncomfortably in his chair as he tried to swallow the mouthful without choking.

 

****

 

His mum rolled her eyes and tutted again at his table manners but he ignored it, finally washing his food down with a glass of orange juice. She guided the girls to the table, ushering Grace to sit opposite Tom and he couldn’t help but to sneak another glance at her.

She was steadfastly staring down at the food, as if deep in thought. He allowed himself the indulgence of watching as she finally began to fill her own plate, seemingly nowhere near as hungry as he was. He wondered what was wrong with her but then remembered they had all been drinking. Checking Sarah’s plate, she too seemed to be a little off her food and he relaxed. After all, it meant more food for him!

Sarah started to chat excitedly about some of her ideas for the summer and soon they all joined in. As they continued to eat, Tom began to grow frustrated as he realised that Grace was looking anywhere but in his direction - even when he was speaking.

 _Well that_ _was just plain rude!_

He pursed his lips and leant back in his chair, allowing his food to settle before embarking on a second helping. Stealing a glance at her across the table his frustration grew. Her long dark hair cascaded down over her bare shoulders, contrasting with her pale skin and cornflower blue eyes. She wore a simple white spaghetti strap top with denim shorts and looked as pretty as ever – if not more so now that they had shared an assignation.

In a moment of defiant madness he extended one of his long legs out under the table and trailed his bare toes up her calf.

Grace gasped and dropped her fork.

The other three sat at the table looked over to her in puzzlement, while Tom couldn’t help but to grin to himself, his own cheeks flushing as Grace coughed in shocked embarrassment.

But he didn’t take his foot away. He bided his time, and when Grace had seemingly composed herself once again - picking up a slice of toast and taking a bite – he slid his toes back down towards her ankle, relishing the feel of her silky soft skin once more.

Biting his lip to stop a groan escaping, Tom began to regret his teasing as his shorts began to bulge uncomfortably with his growing erection. He fidgeted in his seat, reluctantly withdrawing his foot and sitting forward lest Emma, who was sat next to him, noticed.

The conversation settled back to plans for the summer, and it was at this point that his mum dropped a bombshell.

“Oh crikey Tom! I almost forgot!” she suddenly stood and almost ran out of the room. The others looked at one another in confusion.

Sarah turned to him “what on earth is that all about?”

Tom was just as baffled.

“Beats me?” he quirked an eyebrow. Just then, his mum reappeared, brandishing a thick A4 manila envelope and shoved it practically in his face.

“This came yesterday Tom!” she gasped excitedly “I put it to one side while we got everything set up for the party and then forgot all about it. Sorry darling”

Tom dropped his fork and grabbed the envelope eagerly, tearing it open. Inside was a letter and a thick sheaf of paper. He quickly scoured the letter and jumped up from his seat, completely forgetting the still prominent bulge in his shorts.

He looked from the letter to his mother and started to dance excitedly around the room before finally roaring “ _I got it mum!_ I got the part! I’m going to The Fringe!”

Diana jumped up from her seat and pulled Tom into a tight hug.

“Oh Tom! That’s wonderful news. I’m so proud of you! You must ring your father!”

“I will!” Tom dropped the letter and script onto the worktop and put a shaking hand to his head “I just need a minute. _Oh this is huge!_ ”

“Hey congrats! What will you be doing? _Oh God!_ It’s not your stupid impressions is it?” Emma rolled her eyes teasingly as she also wrapped her arms around him in a hug, her smile telling him she was only joking.

“No! It’s a play dumbo! And I got one of the lead roles!” he laughed good-naturedly at his younger sister.

“Well done, my not-so-little brother!” Sarah piled into the hug alongside Emma and their mother, pumping Tom’s arm enthusiastically.

When Tom finally escaped the three women’s clutches, he was flushed with excitement. He noticed Grace stood, a couple of steps back from the others, watching them fondly with a huge grin on her own face and in the heat of the moment he grabbed her excitedly.

Grace’s body stiffened momentarily and he immediately realised his faux-pas, having been completely caught up in his own exuberance. However before he was even able to think about going into some sort of damage control he felt her slip her arms around his waist and hug him tightly, her supple body melting into his.

“Congratulations Tom! That’s brilliant news!” he heard her say, her voice somewhat muffled against his chest. He couldn’t resist dipping his chin and resting it on her head for a brief moment, taking the opportunity to breathe her in.

_Oh could this day get any better?_

_Actually yes!_ It could.

He still needed to talk to her.

Who knew? By the end of today he could also officially have Grace as his girlfriend!

Noting that his mum had disappeared and his sisters were momentarily distracted as they flicked excitedly through the script, Tom took his chance.

“Can we have a chat later?” he whispered softly “just you and me?” His heart pounded in his chest as he awaited her response.

“Yes…”

One simple word - snatched just in time before his mum re-appeared, phone in hand – and Tom’s day was complete.

He reluctantly withdrew from Grace’s embrace, his heart racing from much more than just his excitement at the role he’d won.

_This was a day he would never forget!_

*

In years to come he would remember those words and agree. The events of that hot summer’s day in July would have a far reaching impact on his future…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm. Apologies. I went a little gif crazy in this one...  
> Thanks to everyone who continues to read the nonsense that I write. I cannot even begin to put into words just how much I value every kudos, every comment.
> 
> And I can't wait for you all to see where this goes... <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast-forward a few years...
> 
> Tom's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey everyone. Thanks for being so patient with me. The past month has been a bit crazy for me in RL so writing had to be put on hold. Thankfully i'm now back on track and I just hope you all enjoy where this is headed...

** Part Two ~ Spring 2016 **

The upbeat opening melody of [Friday I'm in Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGgMZpGYiy8) filled the early morning air, cutting through Tom’s heavy slumber. His flight had touched down only eleven hours earlier and he immediately regretted not having scheduled a day to recover before he got back to work.

Still. He had things to do.

With a weary groan, one long, leanly muscled arm poked out from under the duvet, patting around on the bedside table for the source of such unwelcome early morning jubilance.

Finally finding his phone, Tom turned off the alarm and closed his eyes. For the briefest moment a ghost from his past flickered through his mind and he reluctantly indulged his brain’s incessant attempt to reminisce.

_Grace._

_Dancing around in her kitchen. Her dark hair wild and unkempt, her lips kiss-bruised and her skin still flushed after a night of hot-_ _Stop!_

Biting back the same old emotions which surfaced whenever _she_ came into his mind he wondered where she was.

What she was doing. How she was doing.

 _Who_ she was doing…

_No!_

Tom scolded himself. He had to stop this nonsense. Every time he returned to the UK the same thoughts crossed his mind.

 _Every._ _Damn. Time._

It was pathetic. He hadn’t seen her since the wedding.

And why the hell should he?

They were nothing to one another. Not anymore.

She was a liar. A manipulator.

_A deceitful bitc-_

_Enough!_

The familiar bitter taste of repulsion rose at the back of his throat as he remembered their last encounter and for the briefest second he thought that he might actually vomit. Pushing down the rising bile and his tainted memories of _that_ woman he dragged himself out of bed and pulled on his tatty black shorts and his favourite black T shirt.

A run would clear his head. It always did

*

Back home, fed and showered, Tom had been right. His early morning run through Regent’s Park had rid him of his negative mood and once again he rejoiced in being back home in the UK.

There was, after all, no place quite like London.

As he knotted his tie he mentally went over his itinerary for the next couple of days. Luke had arranged a whole host of promotional interviews.

Tom sighed.

Another busy week, he would literally be hitting the ground running.

But it was just as well. It kept him busy.

And when he was busy his mind didn’t wander.

When he was busy he didn’t wonder where _she_ was.

After all, his love of London was a double edged sword. Because despite their lack of contact in recent years he knew _she_ was there.

 _She_ was in London.

 _Where? He did not know_.

But _somewhere_ out there in the sprawling metropolis.

And it filled him with a mixture of nervous adrenaline and rising dread whenever he was home.

Tom sighed with irritation, running his fingers through his hair, and mentally chastised himself again. He really needed to get a grip!

He couldn’t keep doing this...

She was no longer part of his life. What the hell did it matter to him where she was? Or for that matter what she was doing? She didn’t owe him anything, nor he her.

Not anymore.

_Still…_

With a huff of irritation at himself he ran through the day’s schedule again.

Today he was safe at least. He had a couple of work engagements which would fill most of the day. He could rest assured that their paths would not meet during those at least…

He dismissed the flutter of disappointment which bubbled up inside his belly at that realisation, instead passing it off for indigestion.

The intercom rang, alerting him that Luke was waiting outside and he pushed all thoughts of her firmly away once and for all. Tom checked himself one last time in the full length mirror, ensuring his tie was indeed knotted perfectly before pulling on his jacket, giving his hair one final smooth down and making his way out to the waiting car.

Luke had elected to drive, deciding that Tom would probably still be recovering from jet lag, and for once Tom was glad his friend and publicist had been so insistent. 

“Morning!” he yawned.

“Morning Tom” Luke gave him the once over as he climbed into the car “get much sleep last night?”

Tom sighed “A good few hours. I wouldn’t have said no to a few more though…”

“I’ll bear that in mind for next time” Luke winked and Tom laughed, knowing full well Luke would shoehorn as much work into his brief breaks between filming schedules as was necessary.

“So, did you get a chance to go over the pack I left out for you last night or did you pass out straight away?” Luke asked as he drove through the heavy London traffic towards their first destination.

Tom nodded as he reeled off his schedule, checking each thing off on his fingers “A meet and greet, followed by a Q&A and the usual Press photo ops. Oh yes, and then an interview at the BBC… It’s all pretty straightforward as far as I can make out.”

“Right. There is one last minute addition that came through late last night - a drinks reception this evening that I pencilled you in for..." Luke pulled into the car park "but we’re here, so I’ll talk to you about that after the meet and greet if it's okay? We’re already cutting things fine.” 

“Whatever it is, if you think I’m needed I’ll be there. Just not too late mate. I’m not getting any younger y’know – I need my beauty sleep!” Tom chuckled as he clambered out of the car, unfolding his long legs and simultaneously stretching out the crick in his neck.

They were met at the door by a stout, dark haired man who shook first Tom's, then Luke’s hand profusely.

“So very pleased to meet you Mr Hiddleston, Mr Windsor. How was your journey? Did you have to travel far? Can we get you any refreshments? Tea? Coffee?”

“A coffee would be marvellous. And _please_ , call me Tom” Tom smiled kindly at the man as he ushered them into his office, before dashing off to arrange their drinks.

Of all the things Tom had experienced in his relatively short life, the one thing he would never get used to was the nervousness of strangers around him. Maybe it was because he himself was often a simmering bag of nerves - only able to hide under the outwardly confident persona of ‘Tom the actor’ - or maybe he just equated himself – at least in other people’s eyes – as being just as overwhelming to others as his own heroes were to him. Either way, he always tried his best to put people at ease with him as soon as possible.

“Well, I never thought I’d ever be sitting in the headmaster’s office again” Luke snorted and Tom looked questioningly at him, a smirk forming on his thin lips as he waited for Luke to explain.

When no explanation was forthcoming, Tom raised a solitary eyebrow and pulled a face, rubbing one long digit absentmindedly over his lips in deep thought as he attempted to deduce what could have possibly caused Mr Goody-Two-Shoes-Windsor to end up having an audience with the head of his school.

“What was it then?” Tom whispered - something about being in the room suddenly casting an almost reverential air to his voice “Was it smoking? Or… did you come into class pissed?” Tom paused before almost shouting with glee “Oooh…   Did you get caught shagging behind the bike sheds?!”

“Sshh Tom! We’re in a bloody school!” Luke hissed, watching his friend and employer descend into fits of laughter as he watched on disapprovingly.

Tom gasped for air, tamping down his mirth, particularly as the mere image of Luke doing _any_ of those things was frankly laughable in itself. But as Luke continued to wriggle uncomfortably Tom knew he simply couldn’t leave it there. Whatever it was, he _would_ find out eventually, and Tom would use it to his advantage the next time Luke impatiently tried to usher him along on a red carpet.

Luckily for Luke, Tom’s questioning was interrupted by the return of the headmaster, along with the other guest speaker, a female politician.

Introductions were made all round and after a quick drink and a brief chat the party made their way out of the office and back towards the reception area.

The loud trill of the morning bell peeled out overhead as they walked down the corridor and Tom took the opportunity to tease Luke again.

“Did I employ a reprobate? You weren't a drugs dealer were you?” Tom muttered in a hushed tone, watching his friend’s reaction closely as they walked down the corridor.

With both eyes - merry with repressed laughter - on Luke, Tom’s right elbow slammed hard into a passer-by who let out a shocked "Oof!" Immediately Tom’s eyes left Luke’s surprised ones, praying that he hadn’t just walloped some poor child.   

But before he could even spin on his heel to apologise, the person spoke.

Tom froze on the spot, suddenly realising he had made a _huge_ mistake ever agreeing to come to _this_ school...

“Hello _Thomas_ …”

It was a voice all too familiar to Tom and one which sent a shiver down his spine and caused the coffee he’d just drunk to rise right back up to the back of his throat.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. so... I hope you guy's aren't TOO pissed that i've left things hanging back in 1999... thing's WILL slowly be revealed, I PROMISE. Most of that is already written but you might have to wait a few more chapters to see how things unfolded back then and what happens in the present day.  
> Just for the record, this was always planned, but of course recent events made me question where I could take it instead and then y'know what? I decided "Fuck it! - I had a plan and i'm sticking to it" 
> 
> I just hope you all stick around too. As always, i'd love to hear your comments <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are always two sides to every story... 
> 
> (A short chapter from Grace’s POV)

“Hello _Thomas_ …”

Grace swallowed down her shock and watched on smugly as Tom squirmed for a few seconds, the memory of the vile, hurtful accusations he'd hurled at her the last time they’d found themselves in a room together still fresh in her mind. Her skin had smarted from his vitriol just as sure as if he'd slapped her across the face.

The public persona of ‘nice guy Tom’, along with his caring, gentlemanly mask had well and truly slipped away _that_ day. And with it, the cherished memories of a youthful boy who had once worshipped her.

_And she him…_

Regardless of how good the man stood towering over her looked now, she had to remember that day. _That_ was the real Tom Hiddleston.

Work obsessed. Paranoid. Self-centred. Egotistical and with a mouth of pure venom.

She had to remember that.

She opened her mouth, ready to speak again.

No _..._ On second thoughts, let him squirm a little longer. It would do him no harm to be made to feel uncomfortable for once!

_Bastard!_

She couldn’t help but watch with a certain degree of revulsion combined with a healthy dose of delight as his professional façade all but evaporated, his face battling its way through a veritable smorgasbord of emotions as his mouth hung open in outrage and confusion.

Grace had seen this happen only twice before - neither one resulting in a pleasant outcome for herself - but on this occasion it gave her a certain grim satisfaction.

“Tom? _Tom?_ Are you okay? Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Tom’s ‘minder’ was tugging at the sleeve of his jacket, not altogether discreetly, then looking desperately between the still frozen Tom, Grace and the other curious onlookers.

She thought she noted a look of embarrassed exasperation, followed by complete and utter panic wash over the bespectacled man’s face as Tom shrugged his arm away and stormed right back off down the corridor he’d just come from.

Turning back towards Grace and the others, his cheeks crimson, the man spoke.

“I’m _so_ sorry about that! Tom got back into the UK extremely late last night. He mentioned not feeling too well this morning and I suggested rescheduling but he was insistent. As you all know, his charity work means _so_ much to him and he didn’t want to let the children down. So, I suggested he get a blast of fresh air whenever he felt the jet-lag hitting him…”

Grace rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but admire the man’s quick thinking. She wondered how many times he’d had to make excuses for Tom’s erratic behaviour in the past. She almost pitied him.

“I’d better go and check on him. I’ll have him back in a jiffy!” the man apologised again and dashed off, leaving the remaining party to turn towards her questioningly.

 _Yeah…_ She almost pitied the man.

_Almost…_

“Ms Wallace-Stanley..?” The headmaster, Mr Harris was now looking more than a little agitated as he stood awaiting some form of explanation.

_Great!_

Now _she_ was getting the evil eye! What if Mr Harris reported back to her boss?

Damn it Hiddleston! Why was it that everything descended into chaos when he was around her?

Tamping down the anger which was an unfortunate bi-product of being in Thomas William Hiddleston’s company – no matter how briefly - Grace took a deep breath and attempted damage control, both to the day’s proceedings, and to her own career.  

“I have no idea what that was all about?!” she lied “I only know that Mr Hiddleston and I go way back. We’ve known each other ever since we were small children…”

Grace’s voice trailed off and her stomach clenched as the memory of their first meeting, all those many years ago, came crashing back to her…

_Of the sweet young boy with a halo of white blond curls. The same blond boy who had years later made love to her in the very same spot that they had first met._

An unexpected wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm her at the bittersweet memory and Grace blinked back tears.

“Well…anyway…”

She didn’t recognise the voice as her own and coughed, praying she could keep it together long enough to flee just like Tom had done a few moments earlier.

“I really must be going! I need to get back to work myself. Mr Harris, thank you again for letting me drop off those OutRight letters. The children were thrilled to know their questions were being used today!”

Grace smiled at the still perplexed group and turned on her heels, dashing away as fast as her wedged heels could carry her.

As she practically ran down the corridor, Grace faced a dilemma. Her car was parked directly in front of the school entrance. Which was _exactly_ the same direction that _he’d_ headed.

_Crap!_

One face to face meeting with that loser was more than enough for one day. She’d done a superb job of avoiding him for seven years! What was one more sneaky escape?

Her pace slowed as she reached the double doors leading into the school’s reception area. Grace peered through the safety glass, scouring the area for any sign of Tom or his minion. 

When at last she decided the coast was clear, Grace pushed the door and practically ran to the exit. Shuffling from foot to foot she waited impatiently until the receptionist buzzed her out.

Finally free of the building, Grace ran to her Mini and collapsed into the seat, resting her head wearily against the steering wheel as her trembling hands gripped it fiercely. Her body was shaking with a heady concoction of adrenaline and repressed emotion, her heart pounding like a hammer in her chest.

That was close.

_Way, way, too close…_

Grace bit her trembling lip and angrily wiped away the tears that had started to cascade down her hot cheeks.

She knew she had to be strong. She could not allow that man to ever get under her skin again.

She would not allow Thomas William Hiddleston to ruin her life…

Not this time.

_Not again…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks again for the lovely welcome back last week! 
> 
> I hope you are still enjoying this. I know this is another cryptic chapter but there is one more chapter after this one, then Tom and Grace's secrets will begin to unravel...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Luke POV

“What the hell Tom!” Luke stood just inside the headmaster’s office, over a squatting Tom. He looked frantically around, ensuring they were not being observed. Confident that they had not been followed, Luke closed the door behind him and returned to his friend and employer, a shadow of concern clouding his face.

“For fuck sake! Of all the places she had to show up, it had to be here…” Tom’s face was bright red in a tumultuous mixture of emotions. He was frustrated that he _still_ couldn’t control himself around her, indignant, both at himself for running away, and at her for even being there. But perhaps most worryingly of all, he was also overwhelmed at how good she had looked and how - even after such a brief reunion - his heart was already beginning to betray his head.

"Tom!” Luke’s exasperated voice broke through his mental musings “Regardless of whatever the hell just happened out there you need to get your backside back down that corridor and apologise for your behaviour! I told them you were jetlagged and just needed some air but still..."

"Christ! You shouldn't have had to do that Luke!" Tom cut him off and groaned, running his hands through his hair in rising anger "Oh Jesus! I must have looked like a fucking idiot!"

“ _Well…_ ”

“For fuck sake! This can’t be happening. I can’t deal with that bitch being here…” Tom bowed his head and started rocking back and forth, tears threatening to escape his wild eyes.

"Tom! Seriously... You need to calm down! And mate, you really need to watch your language! We're in a school remember!" Luke hissed. He was becoming more and more concerned about his client as Tom started to frantically wring his hands together before finally dragging them down across his agitated face.

“I know Luke! I know! Fuck! Why didn’t I consider this? It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?! Of course she had to fucking work at _this_ school! That was just my luck…” Tom was ranting now and Luke shook his head, his own agitation beginning to flair – both for his client and the mysterious woman.

“Of all of the schools in London, she just had to be here though, didn’t she..!”

“For God's sake..!” Luke finally lost his cool, cutting Tom off mid-rant “Are you going to keep talking in riddles or is there _any_ chance of you enlightening me as to who exactly that woman was?! Do I need to be doing damage control Tom?”

Tom looked up at Luke's perplexed face and laughed. But it was a shaky, hollow laugh, devoid of any joy.

“Damage control? Oh man… that woman’s damage was done _way_ before you and I ever met…” Tom sighed, the floodgates finally opening as sorrowful tears began trickling down Tom’s cheeks.

 _“Wait… Tom?”_ Luke’s eyes grew wide as he stared down at his client’s anguish, the memory of more than one drunken conversation with Tom beginning to finally put a face to a name.

It was a name that Luke had heard several times over the years, sometimes spoken with such vitriol that it made Luke’s skin prickle uncomfortably. At other times - usually when Tom was in a particularly tired or melancholic frame of mind - Luke would hear it whispered as Tom slept alongside him as they travelled.

“That… that woman _… That_ _was Grace,_ wasn’t it!”

Tom closed his eyes and sighed, and it was all the confirmation that Luke needed.

Tom ran his large hands back across his face, bitterly swiping away the tears and with them any more thoughts of _her_.

He had a job to do!

Being an ambassador for UNICEF was a huge deal to him. He would not let her ruin that. That, at least, he could control.

“Just… just give me a minute mate… _please!”_   Tom muttered “Just one minute Luke. I promise you I’ll be back out there and raring to go. But please. I just need a minute to get my head together first.”

“But Tom… what if she’s still out there? Are you going to be okay?” Luke began pacing back and forth in the small office “I’m not sure this is such a good idea…”

“Luke. I’ll be fine. It was just a shock okay? Now I know she’s here I’ll be fine… I promise! I am an actor after all! I can do this…” Tom knew his choice of words were spoken just as much to convince himself as Luke, and he attempted a reassuring smile. Unfortunately it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Luke sighed again but his client was right. They really _did_ need to get back. Reluctantly he nodded.

“Okay. One minute…”

***

Two hours later and Tom was grinning from ear to ear as the press finished taking their requisite photos, any sign of his earlier meltdown now a distant memory.

Grace had been nowhere in sight when Tom had returned, apologising profusely, and when Luke had whispered that she didn’t even work at the school Tom’s jangling nerves had finally settled.

Now, as he said his farewells, he found himself once again wondering why she had been at the school. The last he’d heard from Sarah, Grace had returned to university to pursue some sort of degree in education. Of course, that had been a few years ago. What with Sarah living in India and him travelling so much from job to job their paths didn’t cross very often anymore, and on the rare occasions they did, their conversations were filled with stories of their own exploits - not a woman whom neither had seen for some years.

Luke dropped Tom back home, quickly going through the details of his later scheduled interview and finally, the charity drinks reception. Tom nodded, his mind wandering back to the events of that morning, causing Luke to snap his fingers at his client.

“Tom! Are you sure you’re still up to this evening? We can always reschedule the interview? As for the reception, well it was never one hundred per cent binding…”

“Luke! I’m fine now. I promise you… I just need some food and forty winks. I’ll see you back here in three hours, yeah?”

“Okay. Tonight’s quite a relaxed event so you can get away with wearing whatever suit you decide on for your interview and we’ll head straight on over there after we’ve eaten.”

“Sounds like a plan! And Luke, thank you again for today. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

Tom pulled Luke into a hug before jogging up his steps and into the welcome solitude of his home.

Once inside he took a deep breath as the memory of her face threatened to torment him again.

_No!_

He would not let her fuck with his emotions again. Resolutely, Tom strode into his kitchen and made himself a sandwich, eating stoically as he absentmindedly flicked through a script he was considering.

Afterwards he stripped out of his suit, set his alarm and flopped down onto the sofa in his sweats. He knew if he just closed his eyes his mind would naturally drift back to Grace, so he flicked through the TV, finally finding a channel which showed classic movies. With one of his old favourites, _Top Hat,_ playing softly in the background Tom finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

***

The interview went as well as could be expected considering the interviewer railroaded him yet again into talking about his supposed involvement in the Bond franchise. Thankfully he was able to steer the conversation back to his actual work and afterwards Luke and he escaped the BBC newsroom to a nearby Italian restaurant.

“You handled it really well Tom!” Luke reassured him, slapping him on the back as they left the restaurant, their stomach's full from huge plates of pasta, and in Tom’s case far too much chocolate budino.

“Oh, I don’t know about that” he sighed, groaning as he rubbed his overstuffed tummy “but I tried my best to steer him away from all that incessant gossip! You know it drives me crazy…”

“I’m afraid it’s the nature of the beast now Tom” Luke sighed as they drove the short distance to [Portland Place](http://www.londonlaunch.com/28-portland-place/).

***

“Bloody hell Luke! We could have walked here faster!” Tom laughed as they climbed out of the car, making their way across the busy road and up the steps of the Georgian townhouse.

“I know but word got out that you’d be at the BBC. I didn’t want the pap’s following you here. It’s a low key event, not some celebrity shindig remember?”

The pair made their way through the stylish vestibule and into an elegantly decorated room where they were greeted with glasses of champagne and canapés. Tom stared at the tray of tasty morsels and in spite of his already full belly he couldn’t resist grabbing a prosciutto wrapped fig, shoving it greedily into his mouth.

He let out a low moan of pleasure as the sweet and savoury concoction danced over his taste buds and was just about to swallow when a reflection in the huge ornate mirror in front of him caught his eye.

Tom gasped, almost choking on his food.

_Oh would you come the fuck on!_

Why was this happening to him?

His mouth was suddenly as dry as the Sahara and his mouthful of food had inexplicably lost all of its flavour. Tom raised the glass of champagne to his lips, downing the contents and finally forcing down the mouthful of food with it. He ushered a nearby waiter and downed a second glass, slamming it back onto the silver tray.

Luke frowned and opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t! _Just_ …. _Don’t!_ ” Tom hissed cryptically and before Luke was even able to enquire what on earth was the matter this time, Tom had turned on his heels and was marching across the room.

Luke could only watch on in horror at the dawning realisation of Tom’s intended destination.

“Here we go again…” he groaned and discretely made his way across the room in his clients wake, praying to all the God’s that Tom would have the good sense to at least remember he was in public. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the risk of repeating myself, THANK YOU to everyone who continues to read, comment and leave kudos on this little tale of angsty love and loss. 
> 
> Secrets are about to be revealed...


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace lets rip... 
> 
> (This is a short chapter but don't worry, another is coming today)

“What are you doing here?” Tom hissed, gripping Grace’s arm “Are you fucking _following_ me now?”

Grace winced, remembering the last time he’d grabbed her like that. The last time he’d overwhelmed her senses with his sheer strength and magnetism. Her body shivered at the memory of how _that_ night had ended.

Well not this time.

This time _she_ was ready for him. This time she had no intention of being seduced, manipulated or verbally abused by him.

Grace was no longer the pushover she’d once been. If Tom hadn’t already realised that, he would, and very soon.

“Really Thomas? Me following you..?” she jeered, throwing out her pet name for him in disgust, knowing just how much it drove him crazy “You’d love that, wouldn’t you… Like some pathetic little groupie!” Grace narrowed her eyes as she drawled “Isn’t that what you’ve always craved though Thomas? A pathetic woman to fall swooning at your feet and follow you around the world? Well, by all accounts you have them by the millions now. Whatever would you need with one more..?”

Grace attempted to pull away, but Tom tightened his grip “I asked you what you were doing _here?”_ he hissed, ignoring her insults “This is a UNICEF event…”

“Oh you pompous, [hubristic](https://youtu.be/i4kozo-HnCA?t=2m28s) fucker!” Grace spat, enjoying the way Tom’s eyebrows nearly reached his receding hairline at that particular choice of word “do you think the only people who offer their spare time to charities are publicity hungry fools like you?”

Tom winced at the venom in her voice but Grace was far from finished.

“Well, let me explain it to you… _Thomas_. Some of the unwashed masses _also_ do their bit! We can’t all be swanning around America going from fucking party to party, schmoozing everyone they meet and then slipping in the odd PR charity appearance. Some of us hold down _real_ jobs, struggle with _real_ life and still find time to give something back…so fuck you!” and with that Grace angrily unpeeled Tom’s fingers from her reddening arm and stormed off before he had any comeback.

Tom stood for a moment, slack jawed at the verbal assault Grace had unfurled at him.

No-one affected him quite like that woman. His heart was pounding in his chest. His lips were dry and every nerve in his body was jangling. He looked down and realised both of his hands were balled into tight fists, his knuckles white with barely contained rage. He was dismayed to discover he was also aroused. His cock was rock hard, pressing painfully against his slim fitting trousers as adrenaline coursed throughout his body.

“What the hell was that all about?” Luke suddenly appeared by his side, watching the familiar looking dark haired woman disappear into the crowd. He held a champagne flute in each hand and without a word Tom unballed one fist and grabbed one, draining the glass in one long gulp before reaching for the second and doing the same.

Luke raised his eyebrows as Tom handed him back both empty glasses.

“Tom! Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look like I’m okay?” Tom growled and stormed off.

He needed air.

 _Badly_.

His collar was suddenly constricting his airway and he tugged angrily at his tie, pulling it loose and forcing open the top two buttons of his dress shirt as he hurried towards what appeared to be some kind of outside space.

He pushed open the doors and stepped outside, finding himself in a secluded courtyard. There must have been a sudden rain storm as the scent of petrichor filled his lungs, reminding him of a day, many, many years ago when he and Grace had shared an equally passionate dispute...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*coughs*_ I thought it prudent to add the following disclaimer at this point! Y'know, before anyone gets their knickers in a twist...
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> _**The views and opinions expressed in this chapter are solely those of Miss Grace Olivia Wallace-Stanley and do not_  
>  _reflect the personal views of the author, nor are they based on any factual real-life data or research**_  
>   
>  All joking aside, Tom does a fabulous job promoting UNICEF's work so please take this for what it is, a work of fiction.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading! <3
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to July 1999 and the fallout from _that_ night... (From Tom's POV)

It had been late afternoon before Tom had finally had the opportunity to talk to Grace about their night of passion in the playhouse.

He’d been lingering within earshot all day, pretending to be busy reading his script while the girls chatted amongst themselves, all the while hoping that Grace might let something slip and he could finally announce that they were indeed together.

But Grace remained tight lipped.

By early afternoon he was close to breaking point. He was frustrated with the situation.

Desperate to hold her in his arms once more. Desperate to kiss her.

Desperate to touch her again...

So when he overheard Sarah telling Grace that she was going to take a nap he sensed his opportunity. His mum had taken Emma to her friend’s house. That left just Grace and himself.

They would finally be alone together.

But he also knew he was going to have to play it cool. Grace had not responded well to his over eager declaration that morning. He knew he would have to change tack. 

Tom ambled through the kitchen and out into the garden. With his mum away from the house, he also realised that this would be the perfect opportunity to get the evidence of his night with Grace out of the playhouse and into the washing machine without getting caught. A roguish part of his brain had considered keeping the sheets - maybe even sleeping with them - knowing that they smelt of Grace. But he reminded himself that he had the real thing right within his grasp.

He grinned to himself at that thought, and as he reached the playhouse he breathed deeply. He could still smell the scent of their coupling inside and his dick twitched as flashbacks played through his mind.

_But there was no time for that now!_

He forced himself to focus. Rifling through the shelves he found an old bottle of perfume his mother had once given his sisters and sprayed it liberally throughout the wooden house. The cloying floral scent was way past its best but at least it masked the aroma of sex and sweat.

Tom deflated the air mattress and packed it away into the disused toy box. He even remembered to look again for Grace’s thong on the now empty floor. But there was still no sign of it.

With a perplexed shrug of his shoulders he gathered up the bedding under one arm, gave the room a final once over and stepped back out into the sunshine, leaving the door open so it could get a little more fresh air.

He'd decided on his plan. He would throw the bedding in the washing machine and then confront Grace and clear things up, once and for all. He didn't want to hide his feelings for her from his family anymore. They loved Grace almost as much as he did. He was confident that they would understand. He just had to make Grace understand that too.

So when he saw Grace stepping out from the kitchen and onto the patio his heart soared. 

It was perfect timing. Almost as if she were telepathic!

This was his opportunity to sort out their earlier misunderstanding – and who knew, maybe even sneak in a repeat performance of last night!

Tom licked his lips at that thought. He looked up towards the house. The woman he adored was squinting, seemingly searching for him as he approached, the evidence of their tryst still bundled up under his arm.

Her lush pink lips moved with words, but for a moment Tom was struck deaf, unable to hear. He was completely and utterly mesmerized by her beauty. From her pale smooth skin, dotted with freckles, which appeared to glow in the bright sunlight, to the glorious curves of her body swaying so effortlessly as she moved closer. For a moment he considered dropping the bedding and just dragging her back into the house and up to his bedroom.

But Grace had agreed to talk and he didn’t want to come across like some Neanderthal, throwing his woman over his shoulder and dragging her back to his cave. No matter _how_ enticing that thought was.

Instead he reminded himself that he needed to be a man, but also that he needed to show some control around her. As a woman with more experience in these matters than himself, he realised that he would need to act like an adult instead of allowing his raging hormones to control his brain.

_Amongst other things…_

So Tom kept his mouth shut as he strolled up the lawn towards the patio, hoping the start of yet another hard on wasn’t completely obvious as Grace stood, arms crossed over her chest, waiting with what looked like impatience.

His long legs made fast work of the steps as he climbed them two at a time.

“Hey gorgeous!”

“Thomas!”

Tom frowned. Why did she keep calling him by his formal name? He was about to open his mouth to correct her but then thought better of it. Maybe she wanted it to be her pet name for him? For years now she’d been the only person he’d tolerated calling him Thomas.

_Shit! Even his mother only used it if he was being a complete loon!_

Well, if that’s what Grace wanted to call him he wouldn’t argue with her. He kind of liked that she had a special name for him, even if it was that one. He’d have to think of one for her…

“Thomas!”

There it was again.

 _Fuck!_ She sounded just like she had last night! There went his dick again!

“Are you even listening to me?” Grace’s face was flushed pink. Tom mistook it for arousal, dropping the bedding on the floor and reaching out for her. When Grace took a step backwards away from him, walking into the heavy wooden patio set with a grimace, Tom’s face fell first in confusion and then in concern.

“Grace… are you alright babe?” he knitted his brows and reached out again for her. Grace tried once more to avoid his touch but she was effectively trapped between him and the garden furniture. She shrunk back, perching herself on the edge of the hard table and stared up at Tom.

Tom dropped his hands, hurt, as he slowly began to realise that she was trying to avoid his touch.

“Grace? What’s going on? Why are you being like this?” he leant down, speaking almost in a whisper, afraid that if he said the words any louder her response would be the one he was beginning to dread.

“Thomas…” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them once more and staring into Grace’s big blue eyes. She looked nervous and he really wanted to hold her but there was something in her tone that was beginning to chill him. He remembered the words she’d said just before she’d left the playhouse and his heart began to pound in his chest.

_No!_

She hadn’t _really_ meant them… Had she?

No…

“Tom!” Grace was biting her lip and his heart sank “Last night I… I… we… it was a mistake… we shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have…”

“Grace! Why are you saying this? You came looking for me! If you didn’t want me why did you come to me in the first place?” Tom shook his head in hurt denial.

This made no sense whatsoever! She had come looking for him. He hadn’t made her do anything!

 _She_ had come to _him!_

“What the hell are you talking about Tom?” Grace’s brows were now tensed in the same confused way his own were as she stared him out. “And actually, what the fuck were you even doing in the playhouse last night? Why were you not upstairs in your own bedroom?”

Tom sighed. “Aunt Mary had one too many Sherries so Mum suggested she stay the night. I offered to sleep down here so she could have my room instead of sleeping on the sofa” his shoulders slumped as things started to make sense “Wait. Hang on a minute… You didn’t know I was in there…?”

Tom furrowed his brow in dawning realisation. “I… I… I thought you’d come looking for me…I thought you _knew_ I would be sleeping down here? I… I thought after earlier, when we’d been dancing that you’d felt… I thought you’d felt the same connection as me…”

“What? No!” Grace shook her head, a little too vehemently for his liking “Tom. I couldn’t sleep so I’d come down to the garden for some fresh air. It was a beautiful clear night so I decided to get that old telescope we used to play with from the playhouse…”

“But… but… Grace! Last night was… it was… _special!_ You know it was! We were good together, you and I. We’re meant to be together. I thought you’d finally realised that?” Tom's voice was high now, imploring, as he began to feel his dreams slipping through his fingers.

Grace sighed and shook her head again, looking away. Despite the pain in his heart Tom couldn’t help but admire the way the fading sunlight glimmered in her glossy hair as it whipped around her face. But her following words soon stopped such romantic notions as Grace delivered her killer blow.

“Oh would you come the fuck on?!”

Tom paled, his mouth hanging open in now undeniable comprehension.

“You’re just a _boy_ Thomas! My best friend’s _kid brother_ for fucks sake!” Grace hissed angrily.

Rubbing her hands wearily over her temples Grace did not appear to notice the look of complete and utter dismay which fell across Tom’s face at her harsh words.

He stared up at the sky in disbelief. Thick grey clouds had unexpectedly rolled in, perfectly matching his own change in mood.

Yet still Grace hadn’t finished her vicious assault.

“Look, it was just a drunken mistake!” she yelled “A bloody _awful_ , fumbling mess of a mistake! Can we not just forget it happened? It was just a couple of minutes of madness anyway, that’s all! It's not like I even came!"

If the dismissal of him as an adult and an equal had hurt, Grace’s scathing evaluation of Tom’s - albeit limited - sexual prowess was like a punch in the gut.

He turned away in disgust. The first heavy drops of rain began to fall around him and his nostrils were filled with the earthy scent of petrichor. He felt nauseous. Tears pricked at his eyes and he wiped them away in frustration.

What was it his dad had always told him?

_“Boys don’t cry”_

Well he wouldn’t cry.

Not in front of _her!_

And he would show Grace that he wasn’t a boy. He was a man now! If she wanted to dismiss him as if he was nothing he would do exactly the same right back to her!

_With fucking bells on it!_

Taking a deep breath he turned back to her and delivered his lines like an acting pro.

“Yeah I guess” he shrugged with a feigned look of condescension “It was hardly anything to write home about really, was it? Just a drunken shag!” Tom then straightened his shoulders, stretching himself back up to his full 6ft 2 height, towering over Grace’s diminutive form and with a forced smirk turned away and walked back towards the patio doors with as much dignity and swagger as he could possibly fake.

What was that old saying? If you can’t make it, fake it?

_That’s what she said!_

The bitter taste of bile rose in his throat as he pondered her scathing words and his bottom lip trembled.

He quickened his pace, thankful that his sisters and mother were still nowhere in sight as he took the stairs two at a time. He would not give Grace the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

At last he reached his room and closed the door behind him before slumping heavily to the floor, the tears finally starting to fall from the dark clouds that now obscured his romantic heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope that satisfies a couple of questions. But as always, this is only one side of the story and there is so much more to come, trust me! 
> 
> Please bear with me and my erratic posting. I'm trying to juggle three timelines and multiple POV's and I rarely write in sequence so while some days it might appear that i'm doing nothing, rest assured that i'm feverishly writing later chapters.
> 
> Thanks again for sticking around for the ride! <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short Grace POV (and in honour of breaking the 100 kudos mark I thought i'd finally introduce you all to Grace's face claim! Enjoy <3 )

Grace stormed out of the function room, intent on grabbing her jacket and leaving.

She was absolutely fuming. Not only with Tom, but with herself. She was a grown woman who had resorted to throwing petty insults in a room full of her respected peers.

How the hell could she show her face at the UNICEF offices again after that?

And as for her taunting Tom?

 _What the fuck!_  

Not only had she embarrassed herself, she had also admitted to watching his fucking interview! God only knows what that would do to his over-inflated ego!

_Yes… she’d seen his BBC News interview when she’d returned home from work to get changed._

Grace had found herself rolling her eyes as she hastily munched her way through a bowl of microwaveable pasta. Hubristic? Who the fuck used that language in everyday conversation anyway? He really could be such a pompous ass sometimes! It was ironic really. One of the things she’d always took great satisfaction in was her ability to reduce that erudite, _hubristic_ fucker to nothing more than a babbling mess of oohs and aahs when he was between her thighs...

It was as this not altogether unpleasant memory of hot, sultry nights of passion began to pervade her mind that she heard a voice calling out to her.

Brought back to reality and spinning precariously on her four inch heels, she found herself face to face with Tom’s minder from earlier that day.

_Oh great! Here we go again!_

Grace narrowed her eyes, ready for another confrontation.

“Come to clear up his mess _again_ have you?” she decided to get her punch in first but was dismayed to hear the trembling in her voice and clamped her mouth shut.

“Grace… I… sorry! Ms Wallace-Stanley…” the younger man deferred, his demeanour giving off an air of nervousness all of its own “May I call you Grace?”

Grace frowned before shrugging in resignation “I guess so, it _is_ my name… and your name is?”

“Luke… Luke Windsor. I’m Tom’s…”

“Oh I know who you are! You’re Tom’s lackey…” No sooner were the insulting words out of her mouth, Grace regretted them.

Luke raised both his eyebrows and frowned briefly before painting on a mask of indifference.

“ _No…_ I’m Tom’s-” he patiently attempted to correct.

“Oh God! I’m sorry-” Grace interrupted him, her cheeks reddening at her rudeness. Was it not enough that the poor man had to deal with Tom every day? He didn’t deserve her anger as well.

Luke gestured for Grace to continue.

“I really am sorry Mr Windsor. It’s just been a very strange sort of day and, _look_ … It’s not fair of me to take my anger with your employer out on you. I’m just going to go, okay. Please excuse me. I really am very sorry…”

She turned away once more and had just reached the vestibule when she felt a warm hand on her arm.

“Ms Wallace-Stanley… Grace! Please wait. I’m really worried about Tom”

Grace turned once more and looked at Luke. His face was pinched with concern and he looked almost desperate. Her head was telling her to just get out of there and never look back, but there was something in the way this stranger was looking at her, almost pleadingly that melted her resolve and with it, her hardened heart.

“Okay…” Grace whispered hesitantly, her chest suddenly tightening as she wondered what was wrong with Tom.

 _Oh God!_ _Was he sick?_

“Grace. I’ve worked with Tom for seven years now and in all that time I have _never_ seen him behave in public the way he did twice today! Both of which times were in _your_ presence _.._.” Luke removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before continuing “I am aware that there is history between the two of you and while it is not for me to involve myself in Tom’s personal affairs, when they start to affect his professional ones I do feel obligated to intervene. I also find myself wanting to apologise on his behalf. I realise it’s no excuse for the way he manhandled you in that room but if it's any consolation he's not himself. He's exhausted after a long press tour in America and…”

“Got you doing his dirty work for him now has he?” Grace suddenly understood.

_That cowardly, sorry excuse for a man had sent his flaming assistant to apologise!_

“Actually Grace, he has no idea that i’m even speaking to you” Luke slipped his glasses back on and levelled his gaze at her. His soft eyes now betrayed an underlying steeliness and Grace found herself wondering where in the hell this conversation was going.

_What did this man want and how much did he already know?_

Grace tamped down her nervousness and tried to appear poised, even though deep down her stomach was churning.

“Look I’m beginning to lose patience with this conversation Mr Windsor! If you have something to say, just say it. I’m pretty exhausted after working long hours myself you know, so unless you stop talking in riddles and actually tell me why the hell I should give a damn about _anything_ relating to that man I’m leaving!”

“Right. Indeed…  Well, if I may speak candidly Grace...” Luke paused, his eyes fixed on hers with an inscrutable air “I realise I may very well be speaking out of line here, but it is my belief that Tom still has strong feelings for you. A lot of unresolved feelings it would seem...”

Grace spluttered and then laughed, an almost hysterical sound devoid of any humour.

 

****

 

“Good God! That's an understatement Luke! Oh yes! Tom most certainly has feelings for me… _he hates me!”_ she sighed, her heckles starting to rise once more at the ridiculousness of this conversation.

“I really don’t think that’s the case at all…” Luke interjected “I must confess Grace, Tom has spoken of you in the past, and while yes, he has been less than complimentary in some of those conversations, at other times it has been quite the opposite, I can assure you!”

Grace stood staring at the man, her mouth hanging open and her head beginning to hurt as she tried to process what in the world he was trying to get at.

“I might be presumptuous here, so correct me if I'm wrong... but are you trying to say what I think you are trying to say? Because I’m afraid to break it to you Luke! You are most _definitely_ wrong. The only feelings Thomas William Hiddleston has for me now is contempt apparently. So regrettably I fear you are mistaken..."

Grace bit back the tears, her voice quivering as she realised it was the first time she had ever acknowledged that out loud before. Clearing her throat and trying her best not to let her emotions get the better of her she continued.

"If you'll excuse me Mr Windsor, it's been a very long, emotionally draining day and I have a class of 30 nine and ten year olds whom I have to teach how to write in iambic pentameters tomorrow"

Not waiting for a response, Grace swept up her long skirt, pulled off her heels and practically ran the length of the vestibule towards the relative safety of the cloakroom.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... I have been feverishly working on some later flashback chapters and I can't wait to share them with you all! The next chapter will be another 2016 one but then i'm taking it way back to 1999 and the fun and games will really start, I promise... ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV chapter as the charity evening draws to a close...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Trigger warning for attempted assault.

 

As Luke Windsor sighed, turning to make his way back through the throng of guests in search of Tom, he knew Grace’s fake bravado hadn’t fooled either of them. Yet he couldn’t help but grudgingly admire her tenacity. He was also beginning to understand why Tom was still so consumed by her.

If there was one thing he knew with some degree of certainty, where women were involved, his employer enjoyed a challenge. Brainless, simpering bimbos were not his style. No. Tom liked them intelligent.

And feisty!

Luke hadn’t been lying when he’d told Grace he didn’t normally get involved in Tom’s private affairs, but the truth was he had never seen Tom react anywhere near as emotionally unstable around a woman before either.

And judging by Grace’s earlier reaction to the suggestion that there was still something between them it would be remiss of him not to at least give fate a little nudge in the right direction.

Tom was a good man. He deserved to be happy and if that meant Luke playing cupid?

Well it was the least he could do for his client…

 

*

 

The cloakroom attendant handed Grace her jacket and she made her way back towards the vestibule. Peeking around the door frame she was relieved to see that it was empty.

She quickly made her way out onto the street, desperately searching for a cab. The street was deserted.

_Great! Could this day get any worse?_

With a sigh she fumbled through her jacket pocket, locating her mobile phone and dialled the only taxi firm she knew.

Thirty minutes wait!

Grace stood barefoot on the damp pavement wondering why this was happening to her. She’d always tried to be a good person. When was the universe going to give her a break?

Turning back towards the building she knew if she went back inside it would be just her luck to run straight into Tom again. Two times was definitely more than enough for one day, especially when she recalled the cold, despising way he’d looked at her.

So outside it was then. Thankfully the rain had stopped at least. Maybe the universe didn’t hate her after all!

“Grace my dear! Come to join me outside, have you?” the slimy voice of Harry Evans, one of Grace’s fellow education volunteers made her jump with its proximity.

_Or maybe the blasted universe was just going to continue tormenting her!_

Over the past six months Harry had become more and more obvious with his unwelcome advances towards her during the monthly charity meetings. He was a creep of the highest order and frankly the last person Grace wanted to see right at that moment.

Spinning around she was shocked to find the lecherous man right at her shoulder and instantly backed away hard, her elbow painfully grazing the building’s brickwork.

“Ow!” she groaned, twisting her arm to see what damage she’d done.

“Silly girl!” Harry sneered, closing in on her again “let me take a look at that for you”

“It’s… it’s fine Harry” Grace tried to sound confident but what with all the days stress, her voice just sounded almost defeated.

Harry pounced on Grace’s nervousness and lunged at her, trapping her against the wall.

“Now now Grace, there’s really no need to be so anxious, is there? I only want to take a look at it for you”

Before Grace could react he had moved one large hand down and grabbed her wrist, twisting it to look at the deep graze.

“You’re bleeding” he tutted, still gripping her wrist painfully.

“It’s n…nothing” Grace’s heart was racing and she desperately looked around the street for help, but the rain shower had left the street empty. Her mind started to imagine all sorts of vile scenarios and she knew she had to get away before this went any further.

“Actually Harry, maybe you could nip back inside and see if they have a first aid box?” she tried to smile coquettishly, hoping to appeal to his chivalrous ego.

Unfortunately for Grace, Harry saw right through her words. Narrowing his eyes he grabbed her other wrist – still gripping tightly onto her heels and jacket – and pinned them both painfully against the rough brickwork.

“Oh I think you’ll survive darling. I know a way to make all the pain go away” and with that, Harry pressed his fat lips roughly against hers, plunging his tongue violently into Grace’s gasping mouth as she fought against her assailants grip.

Grace’s head began to swim as Harry continued his assault, grinding his heavy body up against her much smaller frame. She felt nauseous. The man stunk of sweat and alcohol, and her mouth almost gagged on the stale taste of beer and tobacco on his tongue.

Realising that this ordeal would only get much worse unless she did something drastic, instinct took over and in desperation Grace bit down viciously on Harry’s fleshy tongue, causing him to pull away spluttering as blood started to fill his mouth.

“What… the…? You fucking bitch!”

Grace didn’t even stop to check if he was following her, sprinting back inside towards the relative safety of the party.

 

*

 

Tom’s head was reeling, firstly from seeing Grace _twice_ in one day and secondly from the four glasses of alcohol he’d imbibed in quick succession.

Why did she have to be such a fucking bitch to him? Of course he knew the answer to that. Shameful remorse for the way _he’d_ spoken to her seven years ago still tormented him in his sleep from time to time.

You see, despite his ardent claims to the contrary Tom knew he wasn’t blameless in the current state of their… _their what?_

Relationship?

Friendship?

Neither label seemed to adequately define what they’d shared over the years, and neither one seemed appropriate given the deeply contentious nature of their earlier exchange.

It would, of course, be so much easier if those long repressed feelings of longing didn’t also slap him across the face – _and cock!_ \- whenever he was in her presence.

Christ! She had looked beautiful tonight. The years had most definitely been kind to her it seemed. He struggled to believe she was nearly thirty seven. Tom undeniably looked the older of the two now, he mused, a sad smile flashing across his thin lips at the irony.

Their - albeit small - age difference had always been a massive deal to Grace. Back when they were still teenagers it had, of course seemed so much bigger, defining their lives with age restrictions on where they could go, what they could do and what plans they could possibly make for the future.

Tom sighed as he reminisced, wondering for the millionth time how it could all have gone so spectacularly wrong.

He had loved - _and hated_ \- her more profoundly than any woman he had ever been involved with since. She could make his blood boil just as easily with anger as she could with lust.

He bit back a groan, remembering the way the silky smooth skin of her breasts had looked, rising and falling rapidly within the satin and lace confines of her dress as she’d verbally destroyed him inside the room just behind his back.

And though he hated to admit it, she’d had a point! Tom had automatically assumed Grace had followed him there, like some pathetic stalker, when in fact she was there on her own merits, apparently just as deeply dedicated to UNICEF’S goals as himself.

A warm flush of pride for her spread across his cheeks before being extinguished with his own shame. He really should have apologised to her. But she’d stormed off before he had truly been able to process her words.

Tom rung his hands together, before running his fingers across his heated cheeks and finally settling on his chin, one long digit tapping against his thin lips in deep contemplation.

Maybe he _should_ try to speak to her one final time?

To tell her what exactly, he had no clue. But honestly, what did he have to lose? She tormented his dreams and his nightmares. Perhaps he just needed closure…

 _Yes,_ _closure!_ That was it!

Tom decided he had to at the very least try. After all, when would he ever have such an opportunity again after tonight? He had no other way of contacting Grace. No address. No telephone number. Nothing else to go on.

The only thing he did know for certain, was that he definitely couldn’t wait around another seven years to say what he needed to say…

 

*

 

Luke searched the crowd, wondering where Tom had disappeared to. There was no sign of him anywhere and Luke began to panic. What if he’d missed him and Tom was outside right now in another heated argument with Grace?

He decided he would be asking for a raise after tonight’s ‘tom’ foolery was finally over and done with. He stifled a grin at his poor joke and continued to scan the room. A heavy wooden door opened on the far side of the room, and in staggered Tom, his tie and shirt dishevelled as he too started to scan the room, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Oh great…” Luke muttered peevishly to himself, taking in his client’s demeanour.

He’d known Tom long enough to know when he was drunk. Remembering the two large glasses of red wine Tom had enjoyed in the restaurant and the four glasses of champagne he’d guzzled in quick succession when he’d arrived here tonight, it was hardly surprising, especially when he factored in Tom’s jetlag. With an exasperated sigh he made his way quickly across the room towards the taller man, hoping to God that he didn’t make another scene before he reached him.

“Luke! Old boy!” Tom’s loud voice was beckoning him impatiently towards him. Luke quickened his pace and as he reached Tom he was pulled into a bear hug “My dear, dear friend!”

“Tom!” Luke hissed into his ear “We need to get you home! You’re drunk!”

Luke felt Tom’s chest shake with laughter against his own before he pulled away and chuckled at his employee “Mr Windsor, nothing gets past you, does it? But I have to speak to a man about a dog first…. Or rather a woman about a bitch… or should that be a bitch of a woman?” Tom furrowed his brows, trying to fathom out his own riddle.

Perplexed, Luke realised his best bet was to go along with Tom’s ramblings and he quickly decided on a ruse to get him out of the bustling room before the night descended even further into a PR disaster.

“Tom do you want to speak to Grace?” he coaxed, placing his arm at Tom’s back and gently ushering him around the periphery of the room.

“Yes! Yes! That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Tom’s brows furrowed again as he looked at Luke steadfastly.

“Right… sorry, yes. My mistake. I think I saw her outside” Luke continued to guide Tom along, nodding and smiling at any of the guests his eyes connected with, pretending it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be chaperoning his client so closely.

They had made their way halfway towards the exit when Tom suddenly froze, causing Luke to almost fall as he continued walking with his hand still stationed at the small of Tom’s back, and sending him off balance.

“Shit!” Luke muttered under his breath, righting himself and pushing his glasses back up his nose in frustration.

He followed Tom’s eyes over towards the doorway to which they were headed and groaned.

Grace was stood, back against the wall nearest the doorway, talking heatedly to a man.

“I was going to apologise…”

Tom’s shocked voice startled Luke and he turned to find the older man’s fists balled once again in fury.

“I was going to apologise…” he repeated, this time sounding defeated. He unfurled one fist and swept his hand wearily across his face, his jaw ticking as he continued to watch the curiously tense exchange.

Luke’s eyes flicked from Tom’s jealous stare to the pair’s uncomfortable looking exchange, feeling an imminent sense of dread.

 

*

 

All Grace’s instincts were on red alert as Harry had followed her inside, his lips smeared with blood as he closed in on her. Trying to exude confidence, and desperate not to cause another scene amongst her peers she demanded he leave alone her but he merely sniggered. His earlier lecherous air had all but evaporated, leaving behind only one of belligerent menace.

“Now, now, my lovely. Is there any need to be so skittish? I’ve seen the way you look at me in those fundraising meetings. Don’t be so coy, it really doesn’t suit you, especially in that getup…” Harry grabbed at her wrist again and dragged her back out into the vestibule.

He stared lasciviously at Grace’s breasts - heaving against the delicate lace as she tried to pull away - and licked his bloodied lips menacingly. The deserted vestibule was fraught with tension, the ticking of the ornate clock the only sound until abruptly he lunged at her, eliciting a shriek from Grace as she instinctively slammed her heels against his looming chest.

Harry cried out in shocked pain but it didn’t stop his advances and he grabbed at Grace’s hair, yanking her head savagely towards his own.

“Thought you could get away from me, did you cunt?” he hissed.

The rusty memory of self-defence classes from way back at university finally kicked in and Grace brought her knee up swiftly, connecting hard with the angry man’s crotch.

Harry cursed and raised his other fist to hit her when suddenly he was dragged off by two pairs of hands.

“Fucking bastard!” snarled the familiar voice of Tom as he lunged for Grace’s panting assailant, only to be intercepted by Luke. Tom and Harry stood, eyes blazing at one another in a tense standoff as Luke stood between them, desperately trying to talk Tom down.

“Tom…!” Luke warned “Do. Not. Do. This… Go check on Grace… _I’ll_ deal with this”

“The bastard needs teaching a lesson!” Tom started to push past Luke, his fists balled in readiness. He was surprised at the steely resolve of his assistant as Luke held his ground and pushed him backwards with surprising ease.

“Tom… _Grace needs you!”_

The words instantly sobered Tom and he finally looked around in search of her.

_Where was she?_

Looking down the long vestibule his eyes fell to a flash of shimmering blue satin peeking out from the side of an armchair. Rushing over, Tom found Grace on the floor, her knees huddled up tightly against her chest as great big gasping sobs escaped her trembling lips.

Tom knelt on his haunches in front of her shivering form and reached out his hand towards her arm but she instinctively flinched and backed further away against the wall. Noticing the blood slowly trickling down her elbow, Tom’s fierce eyes restlessly searched her own and when he finally spoke his voice sent a shudder throughout her body.

“Did he… Did he _touch_ you Grace? Did he _hurt_ you?”

Grace shook her head vehemently, her head dizzy with this bizarre twist.

_Tom, concerned about her?_

After everything they’d been through over the years, after all the scathing un-pleasantries they’d exchanged, and after so much pain had been dispensed on both sides?

She watched, wordlessly as Tom’s tensed jaw relaxed and he visibly breathed a sigh of relief. His hands - which Grace suddenly realised had been balled into tight fists - slowly began to unclench and she saw that they were shaking, with _what_ exactly she couldn't be sure.

But whatever it was, it only made Grace feel even worse than she already did. It was all too much. Seeing Tom again brought back too many conflicting emotions: anger, frustration, hurt, betrayal, shame... and longing.

For the briefest moment her heart actually fluttered as Tom’s eyes softened and his lips curled up into a shy smile.

“You’re looking well Grace” he murmured, before wincing at the irony given their current situation “Sorry… I just meant… Oh you know what I mean!”

Grace couldn’t prevent a small smile from forming on her own lips and as it did the pair truly looked at one another for the first time in seven years.

And that was when Grace suddenly felt incredibly foolish. What was she doing? This wasn’t the Tom she'd once known – the boy who would literally have followed her anywhere. This man knelt before her – still fixing her with an impenetrable stare - was now a famous movie star at the height of his success and worshipped around the world. She was merely a school teacher who struggled to even get a date!

Not that she really tried anymore if she was being totally honest. Once she’d reached thirty the offers had all but dried up as all the decent blokes seemed to have settled down - and with women much younger than herself. Not for the first time Grace rued the fact that whilst she had been out in the world, selflessly dedicating the better part of her twenties to charity work, every eligible bachelor in the UK had seemingly got hitched in her absence.

And now, here she was, once again letting her stupid heart get the better of her head as Tom _still_ stared at her, his mesmeric eyes seeming to question her.

_No!_

_She couldn’t go there again._

Whatever they might have had in the past, and no matter how many mixed emotions Grace still held towards him, Luke had been mistaken. Tom Hiddleston could do far better than her. And he already had, if some of the celebrity gossip columns were anything to go by.

With that sobering realisation Grace bit her lip, desperately fighting back the fresh tears that suddenly seemed intent on falling as the reality of her inconsequential existence finally hit her. She was nothing more than an ex to Tom. And a troublesome one at that.

Why was Luke, or even she, trying to see anything else in it?

She had not seen Tom for seven years!

_Seven years!_

He was just pissed off with her because things had ended badly. Surely that was why she felt so many conflicting emotions? It was just the weight of seven years repressed anger and hurt finally escaping her body.

_That was all._

She had got through it seven years ago. She could get through this. But in order to do so she had to get out from under his penetrating gaze.

It was with this sole need that she suddenly rose, without another word and began to walk away.

"Grace!"

The anguish in Tom's voice stopped her for a moment and she looked back at him sadly as he started to stride towards her. She couldn't keep hurting this man. And if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that she _would_ hurt him again.

 

 

****

 

"Please don't follow me Tom! Please... Just forget about me!" Her voice trembled with emotion and before she changed her mind, Grace made her move, running down the vestibule and out of Tom's life once and for all.

*

Later that night, as Grace rested her head down wearily on her pillow, having run all the way back to her flat, she found her mind drifting back to that long hot summer of 1999 and wondering how different her life might have turned out if she and Tom had just been completely honest with one another right from the very start…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so firstly, yeah I _know_ the back of Matt Damon doesn't even remotely resemble Tom, and the suit doesn't match either... Shoot me!
> 
> Thanks as always to my loyal readers! The next chapter should be up tomorrow and it's the start of Part 3, which takes us back to 1999...


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking it way back to 1999 and that same confrontation between Tom and Grace, this time from Grace's POV...

** PART 3 ~  ** ** July 1999 **

It had been late afternoon before Grace had finally had the opportunity to talk to Tom about their night in the playhouse. Diana had taken Emma to her friend’s house and Sarah, still nursing her own hangover, had decided to go for an afternoon nap.

“You’ll be alright down here on your own won’t you?” She’d smiled at Grace, knowing full well that Grace felt more at home in the Hiddleston household than in her own home.

“we’ll have a movie night later if you fancy it, just you and me?”

“Yeah, of course hun! I’m just going to read for a bit and then I might also have a quick nap. I didn’t sleep too well myself last night…” Grace’s voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of a happy looking Tom passing the open doorway of the lounge and heading towards the kitchen, her cheeks warming at the memory of last night’s assignation.

_She still needed to speak to Tom. This would be her chance to clear things up once and for all._

Sarah ambled off upstairs and Grace waited, her book sat open in her lap. She counted to one hundred slowly and listened. The house was silent save for the rhythmic ticking of the mantle clock.

This was it. Time to clear things up with Tom and get back to enjoying the summer.

She left her book on the chair and made her way through the empty kitchen and out onto the patio. The sun was still bright and it dazzled her eyes, forcing her to squint as she scanned the garden.

The lanky outline of Tom appeared from inside the playhouse, carrying a big bundle under his arm. Grace took a deep breath. For some reason her stomach was suddenly in knots as he strolled up the garden.

“It looks like it’s going to pour down!” she stated nervously, not quite sure how to start now that they were finally going to be alone again together. Tom was just staring at her and she was dismayed to notice the huge bulge in his shorts as he approached.

Grace crossed her arms impatiently.

“Hey gorgeous!” he grinned at her, his blond curls bouncing as he made fast work of climbing up the steps

“Thomas!” she reprimanded him.

He pulled a face and she couldn’t help it. Her frustration began to mount. Tom was staring at her like some love-sick puppy and despite her better judgement she could feel her own body reacting.

_Oh God no! Not again!_

“Thomas! Are you even listening to me?” She tried to sound authoritative but she could feel her cheeks beginning to burn as he grew closer.

When he dropped the bundle of what appeared to be bedding on the floor and tried to grab hold of her she panicked and stumbled backwards.

This was not how she’d planned it in her head. Not that she'd _really_ had a plan. Grace had thought she could just talk to Tom, explain how her friendship could be ruined. She hadn't bargained on him being all lovable. And handsome. And _sexy_...

Fuck!

Tom was getting under her skin again. What the hell was happening to her? Why couldn’t she just go back to looking at him the way she used to?

“Ooof!” Grace grimaced as her legs connected with the heavy wooden patio table. Tom widened his eyes in concern and tried to touch her again but she shrunk back further against the table, having to perch on the edge.

“Grace… are you alright babe?”

She looked up at him and her heart sank as sadness washed over his face.

Tom leant over her and whispered “Grace? What’s going on? Why are you being like this?”

Oh crap. Now he was giving her the sad eyes again. _God why did he have to keep looking at her like that?_

Her heart started to pound in her chest and all she could think about was how pretty his eyes were. She hadn’t really noticed that before. She tried to decide what shade of blue they were and for a fleeting moment she allowed herself to imagine what it might be like to actually just go with the flow and see how this fledgling relationship might progress. She could actually feel herself getting lost in Tom’s gaze.

But then reality smacked her across the face as she caught sight of her home stood empty and lonely across the fence behind the playhouse and all her fears came crashing back.

With a resigned sigh she spoke “Thomas…”

Tom’s face changed and she knew she had to just get it over and done with. She knew she was going to hurt him no matter how she did it. Better to just get it over with.

But as she began to speak she found herself stuttering, almost as if her heart was fighting with her mouth, trying to stop her from saying what she knew she needed to say.

“ _Tom…_ ” she bit her lip, trying to fight against her wayward thoughts “Last night I… I… we… it was a mistake… we shouldn’t have… _I_ _shouldn’t have_ …”

“Grace! Why are you saying this? You came _looking_ for me! If you didn’t want me why did you come to me in the playhouse?” Tom shook his head at her.

Oh God. He really wasn’t going to make this easy, was he? Couldn’t he see how hard this was for her? Her brows knitted together as she looked up at him in confusion.

But wait. Why would he think she’d come looking for him?

“What the hell are you talking about Tom? What the fuck were you even doing in the playhouse last night? Why were you not upstairs in your own bedroom?”

“Aunt Mary had had too much to drink so Mum suggested she stay the night. I offered to sleep down here so she could have my room instead of sleeping on the sofa” Grace watched Tom’s shoulders slump “Wait. Hang on a minute… You didn’t _know_ I was there…?”

His face practically crumpled as he continued “I… I… _I thought you’d come looking for me_ …I thought you _knew_ I would be sleeping down here? I… I thought after earlier, when we’d been dancing that you’d felt… I thought you’d felt the same connection as me…”

“What? No!” Grace shook her head, perhaps a little too vehemently, as she began to understand why he would think she’d planned their rendezvous. If Grace had believed in fate she would probably have described it as such, but in all honesty it was purely the effects of too much alcohol guiding her to Tom last night.

Just alcohol.

_And Tom’s dancing…_

Stop it!

Tom continued to stare down at her and Grace realised he was waiting for her to explain herself.

Damn it! His eyes were practically boring into her now.

She groaned. She could not get distracted by those soulful eyes of his, or the distracting ache between her thighs at the memory of his dancing – or what came later…

“Tom. I couldn’t sleep so I’d come down to the garden for some fresh air. It was a beautiful clear night so I thought I’d get that old telescope we used to play with from the playhouse…”

There. She’d said it!

“But… but… _Grace!_ Last night was… it was… _special!_ You know it was. We were _good_ together, you and I. We were meant to be together. I thought you’d finally realised that?” Tom voice was whiny now and she started to grow irritated.

Graced sighed and shook her head again, looking away. She had hoped he would understand they couldn’t be together and let him down gently, but it was becoming pretty clear that he wasn’t going to let her do any such thing.

There was only one thing for it. She would have to be a bitch.

If she could make him hate her, he would at least leave her alone. With a heavy heart she rolled her eyes and forced herself to yell “Oh would you come the fuck on?!”

Tom’s mouth hung open but she continued regardless.

_Just do it Grace! Rip off the Band-Aid!_

“You’re just a _boy_ Thomas! My best friend's _kid brother_ for fucks sake!” Grace hissed angrily, more as a chastisement to herself for the position she had put them both in than at Tom.

Rubbing her hands wearily across her face Grace did not immediately notice the look of complete and utter dismay which fell across Tom’s elegant features at her harsh words.

If she had she would have stopped, but instead she ploughed on regardless. In her head she was telling herself that it was much better to be cruel to be kind than to lead him on any more than she already inadvertently had. Her heart, however, was telling her she was making a huge mistake. But she could see no other way out of this mess. She _couldn’t_ lose Sarah, or Diana, or Emma. She really didn’t want to lose Tom either if she was being totally honest, but if she carried on with this craziness the likelihood would be that she would lose them all. It couldn’t possibly work between Tom and her, and when they inevitably parted ways Tom’s family would be there for _him_. However much she meant to the Hiddleston’s, he was their blood. She was not. He would always come first, and rightly so.

Grace knew she had to be strong. She had to make sure Tom truly got it. And so, with pain in her heart she yelled the words she hoped would make him finally understand.

“Look, it was just a drunken mistake!” she yelled “A bloody  _awful_ , fumbling mess of a mistake! Can we not just forget it happened? It was just a couple of minutes of madness anyway, that’s all! It's not like I even came!"

Tom turned away at her harsh words and no sooner had Grace uttered them - seeing his face crumple - she wanted to take them back. In trying to harden her heart and fend off Tom's problematic advances she’d not only hurt him more than she’d ever intended, but also inadvertently drawn attention to her own _extremely_ limited experience. 

Maybe sheshould have been the one to take care of her orgasm? Tom had been pretty busy after all!

Oh fuck! What if Tom realised it had been her first time?

That really  _would_ be mortifying!    

He’d clearly had some experience and he was younger than her, _and_ had been holed up in an all boy’s boarding school! Meanwhile Grace had been away from home at university for a full year and yet all she’d managed to do was push her boyfriend into the arms of someone else with her pestering to take their relationship to the next level of intimacy!

She was roused from her own pitiful pre-occupation by the sound of Tom huffing and as she sat on the edge of the table - her body shaking - her heart broke as she watched Tom’s strong body seem to sway from her venomous blows just as sure as if she’d punched him.

But then his demeanour seemed to change. Grace shivered as rain started to fall in cold, heavy drops onto her bare shoulders.

When Tom turned back towards her his eyes had changed from pale hurt to dark fury and her nerves began to jangle.

For a fleeting moment she seriously wondered whether Tom was going to slap her as she watched his large hands tensing with barely contained anger at his sides.

She shuddered at the thought. But when he finally spoke she immediately wished he _had_ just hit her instead.

“Yeah I guess” Tom narrowed his eyes “It was hardly anything to write home about really, was it? Just a drunken shag!”

Grace’s cheeks reddened and she felt tears threatening to fall but she forced them back as Tom stood up, suddenly seeming huge in comparison as she craned her neck upwards to see his face. He gave her a mocking smirk before stalking back off towards the house.

She turned and watched on in stunned silence as Tom practically ran through the kitchen, only allowing her tears to start falling once she was confident he was out of sight.

What had she done?

Regardless of whatever the hell happened between them last night, Tom had always been there for her. Her stomach twisted at the realisation that in her panic to ensure she did not lose her friend and that same friend’s family, her selfishness and her sickening attempt at being cruel to be kind had quite simply just been cruel. She had effectively broken Tom’s heart. And though she hated to admit it, her own had been broken as Tom had thrown her diatribe right back at her. He didn’t know it of course, but his words had hit her directly in her own weak point.

She was never good enough.

Not for her parents, who were disappointed when she chose to study arts instead of following their footsteps into science. Not for Joe, who turned to another for love and intimacy rather than herself. And not to Tom, who had finally seen her for what she was - In his own words “hardly anything to write home about.”

With his confirmation of her worthlessness still ringing in her ears Grace gathered up the now sodden bedding that Tom had left discarded on the floor, shivering as the sheets dripped against her own soaked body and dejectedly made her way back up into the kitchen.

Almost in a daze she put the bedding into the washing machine, added detergent and set the cycle running.

Now the last remnants of their disastrous night together had been erased.

If nothing else she had at least finished the job for Tom.

 

*

 

Tom didn’t come down for supper that evening, and despite her guilt Grace was thankful. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to face him after the cruel things she’d said in order to stop his advances.

She was far from proud of herself and the whole sorry episode had left her in a contemplative state, staring down apathetically at the book cradled in her lap.

“Good story then?”

The sound of Diana's merry voice made her jump.

“What? Oh… erm… just tired” Grace quickly covered “I think last night finally caught up with me, I might call it a night”

“You do look exhausted. Are you sure it’s just that? You’re not coming down with something area you?” Diana's forehead furrowed in concern and Grace’s stomach lurched at the familial similarity. It was almost identical to the look Tom had given her just before she’d torn his heart out and stamped on it.

Feeling her lip start to quiver Grace quickly bit it and rubbed her sweating palm across her face, forcing out a smile.

“No… just the after effects of too much alcohol and not enough sleep i'm afraid! I’ll be right as rain in the morning”

And with that, Grace said her goodnight's and wearily climbed the stairs, pausing at the door to the spare bedroom long enough to stare down the landing at Tom’s closed door, from where the hauntingly mournful lyrics of [Boys Don't Cry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GkVhgIeGJQ) were playing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for sticking with me! I know i'm tormenting some of you but good stuff is just around the corner... oh, and of course plenty more angst because, well... it's Grace and Tom isn't it?!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer 1999 (Multiple POV)

 

“Thomas William Hiddleston! If you do not get your backside down these stairs in the next five minutes I will ring the director of your theatre group and tell him you won’t be going to Edinburgh because you’ve bloody starved to death!”

The frustrated voice of Diana Hiddleston drifted into the kitchen from the bottom of the staircase, and Grace sighed.

_This was all her fault!_

Tom had refused to leave his room for four days now and while at first everyone had been concerned, now they had all well and truly lost their patience with him.

Everyone that is, except Grace.

Grace was the only person who knew the real reason Tom was holed up in his room, playing a dirge of depressing songs on a loop.

And she felt terrible.

The only light on the horizon for her was that she and Sarah had finalised their holiday bookings. In just under a week they would be touching down in Koh Samui. Grace only hoped that she would be able to put Tom well and truly out of her mind on that trip.

She sat at the kitchen table alongside Sarah, who was excitedly comparing guidebooks and making lists of excursions.

“Thomas William…!” Diana’s agitated voice had risen almost to another octave “I swear to God, I _will_ come up there and drag you down these stairs myself if I have to!”

Grace sighed and Sarah turned to her in concern “You okay? Sorry about my idiot brother. I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into him!” she rolled her eyes before sniggering “puberty must have _finally_ hit!”

“Sarah! That’s a bit mean” Grace frowned, but it was at herself. Who the hell was _she_ to judge another person on being mean after her tirade in the garden?    

“Right…” Sarah bit her lip, and it reminded Grace of Tom.

Her face grew pink as she remembered the way Tom had bitten her own lip and she wriggled uncomfortably in her seat.

“Okay! What is _wrong_ with you?!” Sarah slammed down the guidebooks and note pad and stared at Grace, her face perplexed “You seem really tense! Are you just humouring me with Thailand? I know I picked it but we could go somewhere else if you preferred?”

“Oh God no! I’m really looking forward to getting away. Honestly…” Despite her enthusiastic nodding Grace knew Sarah wasn’t going to just let this go. The truth was, despite her best efforts to appear okay, Grace hadn’t been herself either over the past few days.

Sarah wasn’t stupid. If Grace didn’t nip her friend’s questioning in the bud, and soon, she would no doubt start joining the dots and realise that the start of Grace and Tom’s mood swings coincided.

“It’s… it’s just money, y’know?” Grace lied. The truth was, money was never really too much of a problem. It was the only highlight of having distant parents. They seemed to feel the need to try to buy her affection. Over the years Grace had grown adept at accepting their bribery as some kind of misplaced validation of their love.

“Damn. Do you need any help?” Sarah worried her lip, deep in contemplation “did you not get anywhere with your landlord?”

Grace shook her head. She had ranted about having to pay rent all year round, despite being a student and not usually being resident during the holidays. From what Sarah had told her, that was unusual so Grace had enquired, but it seemed that as she’d taken out a private tenancy - albeit in a flat listed as an ideal student base – she would have to pay whether she was there or not. It was frustrating as hell because it was dead money. But the alternative was living in halls and while she liked her fellow classmates as much as the next person, she had no desire to live with them. In all honesty, she couldn’t bear the idea of moving again either – she felt safe in her quaint little flat – so Grace had swallowed the defeat, and paid up.

“No… I have to pay all year. But whatever… No. It’s just that my parent’s money transfers are a bit sporadic to say the least at the moment. They must be travelling somewhere remote…” she shrugged “I mean, I know they’re good for it, y’know? It’s just hard to budget when I don’t know when the next payment is coming… But don’t worry! I can cover myself. I have savings.”  

*

 

Diana Hiddleston overheard the conversation between Sarah and her best friend and frowned.

Grace was such a sweet girl. So unassuming. She had never once asked for _any_ kind of help – neither emotional nor financial – over the many years she’d known her. Not that she - or her now ex-husband – would have ever said no. But it broke her heart to see the indifference with which Grace’s parents treated her.

They seemed completely oblivious of her need for any form of emotional support. All they did was send her money, the odd phone call, and the occasional postcard, which was something that Diana - having read several such emotionless communications – found particularly deplorable. They usually consisted of work related ramblings and references to colleagues that Diana had no doubt Grace had never even met. They were usually signed with a solitary kiss. No ‘ _love you’s’_. No _‘miss you’s’_. Just their names – their forenames, no less! – and of course that token ‘x’. 

So Diana made it her mission to ensure that whenever Grace was home from school - and now, university - she was welcomed into the Hiddleston home and shown the same love and attention that she shared with her own children.

But Grace was a proud girl. She would never accept charity. Diana knew that in order to help her out with her rent problem she would have to be inventive.

So as she stood at the bottom of the staircase, drumming her fingers impatiently on the wooden newel post in anticipation of any sign of her exasperating son, it unexpectedly came to her.

_Tom!_

_Yes! It was perfect!_

_Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner?_

*

 

“…and we’ll finish with the Full Moon Party over on Ko Pha-Ngan” Sarah beamed at Grace “I think that’s it! We’re all sorted!”

Grace returned her friend’s grin. Two weeks back-packing on the other side of the globe was just what she needed to clear her head. Then she would be back in Edinburgh where she’d lie low until university started again, while getting back to her Saturday job at the bookshop.

She exhaled deeply in relief, knowing it would all be for the best, even if it did mean she’d be spending her birthday alone this year.

_Perhaps that was her penance for being an utter bitch to her best friend’s brother…_

Pushing the thought aside with a small sigh Grace helped pack up all their travel guides and notepads then put the kettle on, ready to make everyone a cup of tea.

"I've got it Grace!” Diana came rushing into the kitchen, her face flushed and her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Grace dropped the teaspoon in surprise but before she’d had the chance to even question what on earth Diana was talking about, the older woman blurted out “Didn’t I just overhear you telling Sarah how fed up you were that your landlord was making you pay over the summer holidays?"

Grace groaned and nodded, her anxious brain suddenly on high alert.

Why was Mrs H suddenly so interested in her flat? Was she going to Edinburgh or something? Surely Sarah would have mentioned it before now?

Oh God, she wasn’t going to try to pay for it, was she? Grace couldn’t accept any money from Mrs Hiddleston. She had already done so much for her over the years. She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to turn her anticipated offer down without hurting her feelings. She knew she meant well, but there was no way she could take money from her.

And then she saw him.

Tom stood, almost ghostlike at the doorway to the kitchen, deathly pale and looking like he was on the verge of tears again as he shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

Noticing Grace’s eyes dart towards the space behind her, Diana turned and her arms flew up in the air.

“Aha, finally! Here’s the young man himself!”

_Oh crap!_

_No!_

_No! She wasn’t suggesting what Grace thought she was suggesting, was she?!_

“Tom can stay there while he’s up in Edinburgh!” Diana confirmed Grace’s worst fears with an excited clap “We’d pay of course! The hotel prices are just ridiculous, and there’s barely anything available anyway. And I’d feel so much better knowing he’s in someone’s home. It’s the perfect solution for everyone, and didn’t you say it was right in the centre of the city Grace?”

“Yes… It’s just off the Royal Mile. But… but isn’t Tom’s theatre outside the centre…?” Grace was panicking, grasping at any reason she could think of as to why this was a bad idea. Of course, she had her own agenda.

“Well… no. We thought it was but the theatre is actually within walking distance of the castle apparently, although down in the New Town area" Diana grinned and Grace had to face the fact that she had no good reason – other than the obvious unspoken one – as to why she should turn Tom away.

But the thought of Tom staying in her flat was… _well it was just weird!_ They’d barely spoken since their confrontation in the garden, and the tension had been palpable whenever they were even in the same proximity – however fleetingly - at least from Grace’s standpoint.

So the idea of Tom living in her tiny flat – _Oh God! His mop of curls could probably dust the ceilings!_ – seemed implausible.

Would he expect to sleep in her bed? _Fuck!_ Just the idea of Tom in her bed made her stifle a groan. And what about all her personal belongings? Would Tom look through them?

The mere thought left Grace feeling completely exposed.

And yet it _did_ seem to be the perfect solution to Tom’s situation. Grace had overheard Diana on the phone to countless hotels and B &B’s searching for a last minute room, but because of The Fringe everywhere reasonably priced was already booked up. The only place she’d found with a room left within their price range was nearly fourteen miles away and from Diana’s demeanour as Grace had described the run-down area, definitely not even in the running.

Grace stifled a sigh.

So, what if Tom stayed at her flat for a few weeks? Why should that be so bad? She wasn’t even going to be there for two of them anyway!

And after everything she’d put Tom through, could she really be so selfish as to turn him away from her home? Grace looked around the Hiddleston’s kitchen and she found herself blushing at her own double standards.

She owed each and every one of the Hiddleston’s in some way.

Grace suddenly realised she _had_ to do this. For Diana. For her best friend. And perhaps most importantly, _for Tom_. This would go a tiny way to returning the hospitality they had so generously lavished on her over the years.

“That’s a great idea! But you don’t have to pay. You’ve done so much for me over the years, let me please return the favour”

“Oh dear. We do it because we love you Grace! Not because we expect something in return. No, I’ll pay. And on that I _insist_. If you really want to ‘return the favour’, just look after my boy. Maybe you could show him the sights when you return from Thailand?”

Grace could feel her already pink cheeks burn brighter as she stumbled over her words.

“Oh... erm, of course! But there’s actually not that much to see once you’ve visited the castle… oh… and the parliament buildings. Oh yes, and the National Gallery of course. You can actually see that from my lounge window…”

“I don’t need _her_ to look after me, I can look after myself!” the petulant sound of Tom’s voice, gravelly from lack of use, reminded everybody that he was still stood, motionless in the doorway, having listened to the whole exchange.

As Grace looked over towards him she saw anger in his puffy eyes and recoiled, her own eyes downcast as she nervously bit her lip. She suddenly felt nauseous. What if he told them?

“Thomas William!” Diana’s voice had changed from cheery back to angry “I have no idea what on God’s green earth has gotten into you over the past few days but apologise to Grace immediately! She has graciously offered up her home to you. The very least you could do is say thank you!”

Suitably chastised, a stony faced Tom muttered “Thank you” before turning on his heels into the hallway and back up the staircase.

“Oh no you don’t young man! Get your backside right back down those stairs this second… Girls, could you give us a moment?” Diana smiled apologetically at Sarah and Grace

Sarah rolled her eyes but nodded and the pair gathered up their things and left the kitchen just as Tom appeared once more at the doorway. Grace avoided his eyes this time but Sarah couldn’t resist getting a jibe in as she passed her brother.

“Stop being such a dickhead!” she hissed.

“Piss off!” Tom growled loudly in response. The smack across the back of his head soon alerted him to his mother’s proximity.

“Language!” she chastised and Tom frowned, his forehead pinched as he looked down at his mother apologetically.

“Sorry mum…” he muttered shiftily and Diana’s heart softened. This wasn’t like him at all. He was usually the life and soul of the party. Boisterous even. But never really snappy. And definitely good mannered. It was something she’d instilled in all of her children from an early age.

She sighed deeply. She was worried about him.

“Listen Tom. I have no idea what’s happened but you have _got_ to stop taking it out on everybody else darling, okay? You have a wonderful opportunity ahead of you but you will be fit for nothing if you don’t start looking after yourself! Real theatre is heavy going! It requires energy and commitment...” Diana’s noise wrinkled as she pulled her only son into her arms for a tight hug “Good Lord Tom! You need to go take a shower right now! Then come straight back down. It’s lasagne for dinner”

Tom pulled away reluctantly, on the verge of tears again as his stomach grumbled loudly.

His mum was right.

_As always._

He couldn’t let his disappointment and humiliation sabotage his big chance.

With a renewed sense of purpose Tom kissed his mother, smiling for the first time since _that_ conversation, as Diana wrinkled her nose disapprovingly – no doubt at the aforementioned smell – and climbed the staircase once more, this time to wash away his melancholy, along with four days of sweat and grime.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all my lovely readers and also to the new ones! The pace will start to pick up in the next few chapters and there's interesting times ahead for our ill-fated lovers...


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 1999  
> Tom leaves for Edinburgh and we get to see a hint of his green-eyed monster... ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom POV

 

Tom arrived in Edinburgh early-morning on the Sunday. He’d had to get up at the ass crack of dawn to catch the train but it had been decided (for him!) that it would be best to get to Scotland well ahead of time. That way he could spend the day getting settled before rehearsals started the following day.

His mum had driven him to the station and despite pretending otherwise he’d harboured a faint hope of Grace waving him off. As it was, even his sisters hadn't bothered to get out of bed...

So Tom had sat sullenly in the car waiting for his mum to lock up, casting a disconsolate glance up at the windows, willing her to appear so that he could get one last glimpse of her.

Grace was off to Thailand with Sarah later that day and his heart had sunk even further, imagining her being seduced by some trendy backpacker with way more life experience than himself.

 

** **

 

“Cheer up Tom! Anyone would think you were off to the gallows!” the sound of his mother’s cheery voice had broken through his gloominess and he’d tried to smile, the pathetic attempt not quite reaching his eyes.

As Diana had put the car into gear Tom had taken one final look at the house and his breath had caught.

Grace had been stood, ghost-like, her face almost touching the ivy threaded glass of the porch window as she’d peered out onto the driveway.

 

 

Tom’s heart had leapt despite himself and he’d given her an almost imperceptible nod, not wanting to attract his mother’s attention.

Grace had nodded back, her lips parting in a silent “good luck”.

Those two whispered words had meant everything to Tom and he’d perked up, suddenly eager to get on that train and start rehearsals in earnest.

The schedule would be gruelling. Two solid weeks of twelve hour days as they perfected the play. But he had the advantage of having already learnt most of his lines – it being the only distraction he’d had from thinking about Grace as he’d sequestered himself inside his bedroom.

Soon they’d arrived at the station and Tom had shared an emotional farewell with his mother.

“I love you my darling boy” she’d cupped his cheeks, sweeping her thumbs over his still gaunt features in concern “I know you’ll work hard but promise me you won’t get yourself in the same mood you had for most of last week… and make sure you eat enough! And no Tom! Not _just_ cake, okay? And ring me!”

“Mum! I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’ve never been away from home before!” Tom had grumbled as she’d pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“I know darling but this is different. This time you’re on your own… It’s not like going off to Eton with your friends and having the support of your teachers, is it?”

Tom’s lip had quivered at that realisation and he’d hugged his mum tightly back. But he didn’t want her to worry about him so he’d put on a brave face as he’d finally pulled away from her embrace.

“Mum, I promise you. I’ll be fine. And please… don’t worry. I’m okay now. I’m excited actually!”

The tannoy system had announced the imminent arrival of the train to Edinburgh and with a reassuring grin Tom had grabbed his backpack and holdall and kissed his mum goodbye, promising to call her that evening once he’d settled in.

*

Arriving in Edinburgh at barely ten in the morning, Tom clutched the scribbled directions that Grace had somewhat reluctantly given him. Her flat was right in the centre, so he would be able to soak up a little of the city’s atmosphere before getting down to the serious business of rehearsals the following day. Although the introduction day with his fellow cast members had gone well down in Oxford, they had not had so much as a run through on an actual stage yet and that made him nervous as hell.

Walking through the almost deserted centre, up the steeply inclined cobbled street, Tom found himself staring up at the imposing façade of a group of 18th century grey stone buildings. Checking the piece of paper again, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

 **_Flat 7c, 13_ ** [ **_North Bank Street_ ** ](https://www.google.co.uk/maps/place/N+Bank+St,+Edinburgh+EH1/@55.9499992,-3.1940408,3a,75y,193.89h,101.1t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s-rRsiUTBVxD0ICGDwdIbWw!2e0!6s%2F%2Fgeo0.ggpht.com%2Fcbk%3Fpanoid%3D-rRsiUTBVxD0ICGDwdIbWw%26output%3Dthumbnail%26cb_client%3Dmaps_sv.tactile.gps%26thumb%3D2%26w%3D203%26h%3D100%26yaw%3D113.30856%26pitch%3D0!7i13312!8i6656!4m5!3m4!1s0x4887c79a9f2f515d:0x82964912dda9028e!8m2!3d55.9499348!4d-3.194073) **_, The Mound_ ** _._

“Blimey!” Tom gawped, quickening his pace and searching for the entrance to his abode for the next three and a half weeks.

Seven steep flights of stairs later Tom wasn’t feeling _quite_ so enamoured with his new home…

“Fucking hell!” he gasped as he finally reached the attic floor, and Grace’s flat. He was bent double, gasping for air and dripping with sweat. He was also regretting not having stopped off to get some food first. The thought of going all the way back down again to eat was not one he particularly relished at that moment. Still, he was here at last. And at least those stairs would keep him fit!

He had a sudden vision of Grace climbing them every day with all her books and had to admit he was impressed. It also went some way to explaining why she was so fit. Grace ate like a horse – something Tom regarded as important in a person. He had no time for people on silly fad diets. But he also knew she wasn’t a fan of exercise, another thing she had in common with Sarah. On the one occasion that they’d tagged along with him on a morning run, they’d both been gasping for breath before they’d even made it to the end of their road and cried off!

Shaking his head in a vain attempt to get her out of his head – not really at all feasible given his current location – Tom wrestled with the heavy wooden door, again marvelling at Grace’s strength.

Shoving the door shut he dropped his bags and looked around the tiny hallway. Grace had mentioned that her flat was small, but Tom had to stoop to avoid banging his head on the lintel at the other end of the hallway – all two strides of it.

This doorway – thankfully no ancient door to wrestle with here – opened into what could only be described as a compact lounge-cum-dining area.

He took a moment to look around the room. Three of the walls were painted in a soft cream colour, making the bijou space appear bigger. The remaining wall was comprised of the original exposed stonework, along with a cast iron fireplace, giving it a surprisingly rustic feel, particularly given its city centre location.

Tom's eyes fell to the cramped collection of photo frames scattered along the mantelpiece above the fireplace. Despite still nursing a broken heart he couldn’t help but grin at the photo of Sarah and Grace which his mum had taken last Christmas in front of their impressive Christmas tree. Grace had complained when she’d first seen it, commenting that as she’d stood in her green sweater in front of such a huge tree she resembled an elf.  
As always, his mum had stopped her self-deprecation, commenting that the best things came in small packages. Tom frowned then, recalling Grace’s response "Like poison!"

She’d been laughing, but there had been a sadness in her voice that had cut through him.

Shaking away his traitorous mind and reminding himself that she was _his_ poison, Tom continued to look at each of the photographs. He was beginning to realise just _how_ much Grace cared about Sarah - and the rest of his family. Sure, he knew they were best friends, but it was clear to see from the number of pictures that his family really did mean a lot to her. There were photographs of Sarah and Grace’s first day at primary school together, another of their last day at sixth form college, and a few others of them at different ages pulling silly faces at the camera.

But one photograph in particular caught his eye. It was a photograph of a happy family scene.

Tom remembered the day it was taken as if it was yesterday. His heart thumped in his chest as his smiling parents stared back at him, surrounded by their mischievous children, and a grinning Grace. To the outsider it was a perfect family moment captured in time, but to Tom it signified so much more and his stomach twisted at the memory. _Oh yes, he remembered that day well..._

It had been the last day the whole family – and of course Grace - had spent together before his dad left.

A crop of tears threatened to fall from Tom’s watery eyes and he sniffed loudly, wiping them away. Shaking off his melancholy with a deep sigh, his eyes widened as they fell on one particularly dog-eared photograph.

It had also been framed despite it having seen better days. He picked the frame up and examined it closely. The faded image was one of Grace, Sarah, Emma and himself, stood at the end of the garden in front of the playhouse, with Grace’s tree looming high above them in the background. Grace was sporting a pair of hideously bright orange leggings and was clutching a large book by her side, while he was proudly wearing his favourite Winnie the Pooh T shirt and was doing a ridiculous thumb’s up pose for the camera.

Despite himself, the corners of Tom’s lips turned up as he realised it must have been taken the day they’d first met Grace. Her beaming smile couldn’t hide the shyness in her eyes – it was an expression he’d seen many times since then – most recently the morning after… well, _that_ night...

Yet again Tom’s heart sank. Maybe it really was a mistake staying here? It was hard to stay mad at someone who so obviously adored his family. Not to mention how completely and utterly impossible it was going to be to avoid thinking about her. But then again, perhaps it might be exactly what he needed to do to exorcise Grace from his mind - _and heart_ \- once and for all?

Tom turned the frame over absentmindedly in his hands - deciding that yes, purging might just be the way forward - when a glint of gold caught his eye. Scribbled on the black frame backing in gold metallic ink were the words:

 _‘ **Best day EVER!**_ **’**  

_Fuck! Why did she have to be so bloody adorable?_

Didn't she realise he was purging for fuck sake?!

Tom groaned and went to put the photograph back, when he noticed a smaller frame, covered in dust, and hidden behind all the others. Setting the one in his hands back down on the mantel, Tom lifted the dusty one and swiped his hand across the dirty glass.

His forehead creased as he stared down at the image of a new-born baby, and Grace’s teary eyed parents.

It was then that it truly hit Tom.

All those photographs of _his_ family had pride of place, meanwhile Grace's own absentee parents were buried under a layer of dust - _ironically just like the prehistoric fossils they were so fond of spending time with_ \- the only reminder that they even existed being the solitary photograph of the day she came into their lives.

Tom finally understood.

She was _scared!_  The Hiddleston’s were her family now. Not the parents who were God only knows where...

He suddenly felt terrible for the way he’d spoken to her. Yes he’d been hurt. Badly. She had said some pretty mean things after all. But God, at least if he’d wanted to he could have turned to his mum or dad.

Who did Grace have? The truth was, nobody.

Except _his_ family!

Tom slammed the photograph back down in frustration.

_What a fucking mess!_

He would apologise to her when she got home from Thailand and try to draw a line under what had happened between them. For her sake as well as his own.

With a sigh he walked back into the hallway and brought his bags back into the lounge, dropping them behind the sofa. Looking once again around the small room he noticed the kitchenette and went to inspect what was in the cupboards, seeing if there was anything he could make some dinner out of later on. He was thankful to see a selection of soups along with packs of instant noodles and pasta. Pretty much the usual student fare.

Closing the cupboard he turned towards the small fridge and frowned. Covering almost the entire door was a large photograph of a man Tom thought he vaguely recognised from somewhere, pinned under a selection of novelty heart fridge magnets.

For a moment his heart seemed to stop.

The man sported a pair of black knee length shorts with what looked like some sort of work boots, and he had a baggy flannel shirt draped over his naked torso. Unlike Tom’s tight blond curls, this guy was sporting a long thick mane of dark waves which finished just above his defined pecs.

_Jesus!_

Was _that_ her ex-boyfriend?

Tom couldn’t help the rising jealousy as he compared himself to the man in the photograph and finding himself decidedly lacking on all counts. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly older than Grace, which also meant he was older - and obviously more experienced - than Tom, and his face hinted at an almost cocky confidence. In short the man was the epitome of cool.

Tom suddenly felt even more inadequate. His fingers twitched, desperately wanting to tear the photograph up and throw it away. But he resisted, deciding it might be a good idea at this juncture to get out of the cramped kitchen and check out the rest of the flat before he did something he might later regret.

A quick look around the clean, functional bathroom was soon followed by Tom standing at the one door he hadn’t yet opened. The one which undoubtedly led into Grace’s bedroom.

Although Grace had not stipulated where Tom could or could not go, he still hesitated about opening this door. In all the time he’d known her, Tom had never once been inside her bedroom back home, and so entering this one somehow didn’t seem right either.

And yet he suddenly found himself with his fingers gripping the handle, turning it and pushing the door open to reveal a surprisingly light and airy space.

Just as in the lounge, the far wall consisted of exposed brickwork, but in the centre of this one lay a large stone plaque with an inscribed date. Tom walked over to the wall to inspect the plaque, one hand stroking the cool stone as his eyes widened. His finger traced the numbers 1 7 7 6 and he found himself smiling as he turned around to look over the rest of the room. Everything about it screamed Grace. It was simple, elegant and uncluttered. In front of him was a double bed, dressed simply with a white duvet set. A thick grey blanket lay neatly folded across the foot of the bed.  

The wall to his left housed a large picture window, filled with a neat line of books and draped with pale grey curtains. Another photograph of a young Sarah and Grace on a sandy beach somewhere caught his eye on the small antique dresser beside the doorway, and he felt that now familiar twinge in his stomach. In contrast to the quirky style of the rest of the room, the wall to his right was comprised solely of sleek floor to ceiling mirrors and Tom realised they must be wardrobe doors.

His interest piqued, Tom walked around the bed and stood in front of the first one. Again he hesitated for a moment, knowing that what he was about to do was a gross invasion of her privacy, but curiosity got the better of him and before he could stop himself he was sliding the mirrored door open and peering inside.

Whatever secrets Tom had been expecting to discover, he found himself disappointed.

Inside were two neat rails of winter clothing, and a selection of shoes on the floor. He moved on to the next, again finding a rail of clothing and four shelves with an assortment of odds and ends, nothing of which looked particularly interesting. With a sigh Tom slid the door closed and moved on to the final one. Inside this one were piles of old books and a few boxes. He was about to close the door in disappointment when he noticed a stack of magazines lying on top of one of the boxes and realised the same face that he’d been staring at on Grace fridge was looking out at him from the cover of the top magazine.

Quickly scanning the accompanying text Tom slammed his palm to his forehead in realisation.

_Fucking Eddie Vedder!_

Of course!

Grace had been obsessed with everything Grunge a few years back, even down to adopting the style of fashion. Tom chuckled as he flicked through the pile of magazines from various publishers, noting they all had one thing in common. Each and every one had Eddie or his band Pearl Jam as their cover star.

Blimey. So Grace had her own secret crush then, did she?

In some respects it made Tom feel a little bit better to know that it wasn’t a ‘real’ guy – at least not in the sense of her having some secret bloke hidden up here in Scotland. Yet he still couldn’t let go of the sense of inferiority. This guy was incredibly talented, successful and had the world at his feet.

_Whereas Tom?_

Well, he was an eighteen year nobody with lofty ambitions of becoming a world class actor but with no real idea how he was going to go about doing that…  

With an unexpectedly defeated sigh Tom gathered up all the magazines, giving a smirking Eddie the ‘V’ sign before closing the wardrobe and making his way back out of Grace’s bedroom.

Despite how tantalisingly comfortable Grace's bed had looked, Tom decided he might just be pushing his luck one step too far by sleeping in it, and so decided the sofa would have to suffice. He’d brought his sleeping bag just in case, reluctant to face the awkward discussion of sleeping arrangements after seeing the way his mum had practically railroaded Grace into offering up her flat to him in the first place.

Tom quickly unpacked his things, clearing a space for them on a rocking chair he’d somehow missed earlier and decided to head back out and start exploring the city, suddenly keen to escape the stifling presence of Grace wherever he looked.

 

*

Over the next two weeks Tom threw himself into rehearsals and by the time they were coming to a close he felt confident that he was ready.

He also felt a peculiar sense of excitement at the thought of seeing Grace again. It was hard to explain, especially given the way things had been left between them back home, but now he'd spent some time in her world he felt like in some ways he knew her even better than before.

And Tom had decided that regardless of his feelings, he would make every effort to be mature about the situation and ensure that she was able to relax in what was, after all, her flat.

She was due home tomorrow afternoon, coinciding with his final dress rehearsal. Tom’s stomach was in knots as he wearily climbed the stairs, realising that the main event was just around the corner now.

Pushing the front door closed with a sigh he prayed that he would be able to get some sleep. The humidity had been sky high up in the tiny attic flat over the last few nights.

He filled a glass of water and downed it in one long gulp before refilling it and setting it down on the coffee table alongside his takeaway burger.

Heading into the bathroom he pulled off his clothes and quickly changed into a pair of thin cotton sleep shorts and a threadbare T shirt. He stuffed his dirty laundry in the washing machine, ready to run the cycle tomorrow before Grace returned, and settled down onto the sofa with his supper, flicking through the TV channels until he stumbled across _Dumb and Dumber._ It was only about 20 minutes into the movie so he sat back, laughing as he ate, knowing it was exactly the thing he needed to take his mind off his impending performance and the imminent return of Grace.

 

*****

 _The photograph that brought out Tom's green-eyed monster in the kitchen..._ (I know my dear friend will particularly appreciate this...) If you want to read some amazing fics, head over to [crazyTXgradstudent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyTXgradstudent/pseuds/crazyTXgradstudent) (she's just started a cool Grunge era fic incidentally!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry. Dedicating this chapter to CrazyTXGradstudent. You're welcome ;)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace returns from Thailand and she isn't quite herself...

Grace shoved the heavy wooden door closed, groaning with relief as she unhooked her leaden backpack and dropped it where she stood. The rough strap brushed against her swollen ankle and she winced with pain. Wearily looking at her watch she was relieved to see it was nearly time for her next dose of medication.

Thailand had been wonderful. The mosquitos had not. Along with the various souvenirs of her travels Grace had returned with a badly bitten, and now infected, ankle. 

Leaving her bag near the door she hobbled through to the lounge and stopped in her tracks. Tom was coming out of the bathroom, eyebrows raised in surprise, his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“Oh... erm... hi!” Grace murmured in embarrassed surprise, not having expected him to still be up. It was nearly two in the morning. She had taken the sleeper train straight back from London after their flight had landed as there had been no point going back to Oxford seeing as Sarah was off to join Emma at their father's house for the week.

Meanwhile Tom just stood staring at her, the toothbrush still hanging limply from his open mouth. Feeling exposed and not trusting herself to maintain eye contact Grace had taken the opportunity to take a quick look around the small room.

Everything seemed to be just as she’d left it but as she noticed his sleeping bag neatly folded on the arm of the sofa in readiness, she quickly realised that Tom must have been sleeping on her sofa for the entire time he’d been staying there. She immediately felt ashamed for not having been more hospitable and offering him her bed, given his tall stature.

Shit! He must have been really uncomfortable! 

Maybe she should offer to sleep in the lounge now and let him have her bed for the rest of his time here. He would be performing every night so he needed a good night’s sleep, whereas she only had her Saturday job to contend with while Tom was in Edinburgh.

Grace took one step forward, just as Tom seemed to come to his senses and spluttered “You’re backth! Umph… Justh gith me a minuth!” he signalled to his toothbrush and the now frothing toothpaste fighting to escape his mouth.

As Tom turned back towards the bathroom Grace returned to the hall and dragged her backpack into the lounge. She rooted through its many pockets, throwing a pile of magazines she’d bought for the flight home absentmindedly on the coffee table, before locating her painkillers and taking two with the remnants of a now tepid bottle of cider she’d nursed on the train. As she swallowed the pills she listened to the sound of running water as Tom rinsed his mouth. It all sounded so natural. 

So domesticated.

Grace stood, feeling oddly out of sorts in her own home, unsure of how to deal with Tom’s presence there. 

The truth was, despite her best attempts to drown them out, thoughts of Tom had haunted her while she’d been in Thailand. She’d often woke in the middle of the night, either beaded with sweat and highly aroused as memories of that night flooded her mind or sobbing in shame at the way she’d treated him afterwards. She couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened had she simply confessed all to her friend and let their fledgling 'relationship' run it's course...

After the teary nightmares had occurred three nights in a row Sarah had confronted her over breakfast and she’d lied - yet again - to her best friend, making up some cock and bull story about having a recurring dream of falling off a cliff. Sarah had been deeply sympathetic of course, which had only made Grace feel even guiltier. She had always tried to be honest but it seemed as if she was consumed with lies at the moment. She was lying to everyone, not least herself. 

But she had to, _didn’t she?_

The sight of Tom’s mess of blond curls ducking under the lintel and back into the lounge forced her to refocus. He looked good. _Really_ good – much better than the last time she’d seen him - and she felt that now familiar stirring again. 

This was no good! She was in dangerous territory around Tom in her current, emotional state. She was sleep deprived, jetlagged and maybe still just a little bit high from the pain relief/antibiotic concoction she’d already washed down with her cider on the train. 

Grace shuffled from foot to foot uneasily. She needed to keep her wits about her, which was easier said than done when he was looking at her like that...

Tom stepped towards her and she instinctively stepped back, almost stumbling over her backpack with a loud groan of pain. To an onlooker they resembled wary cats, circling one another.

The tension was palpable until, in a desperate bid to diffuse the situation, they both began to speak at the same time.

“I’m sorry about that… I wasn’t expecting you home until the mor-” Tom apologised.

“I should have called to let you know I was coming straight-” Grace shook her head and smiled “Sorry! I’m always doing that…”

“You have nothing to apologise for! This is your flat!” Tom grinned then, relieved that she wasn’t about to start yelling at him again.

_God, she looked good!_

Her usually pale skin was a golden brown colour, making her blue eyes seem even brighter, and her dark hair gleamed with red highlights where the sun had lightened it a little.

Biting his tongue to stop himself from telling her how beautiful she looked, knowing it would be guaranteed to earn him a stern look and no doubt make things awkward yet again, he took a moment then simply said “You look well. Did you have a good time?”

For some reason that Grace couldn't quite fathom (or perhaps more accurately, refused to) Tom’s reaction disappointed her. She knew she must have looked rough, having been travelling for almost a day, but she’d foolishly thought perhaps Tom might have told her how nice she looked anyway. He’d always done so in the past - even when she was ill and looked rougher than a badger's arse! – and she suddenly missed it.

Well Grace, this is what comes of ripping out the poor boy’s heart! What exactly were you expecting from him?

_A good, hard shag like that night in the playhouse, preferably with that talented mouth of his wrapped around her stiff nipples instead of just nervously licking his lips maybe...?_

Fuck! Where the hell did that come from?

Tom was staring at her, eyebrows raised, and for a moment Grace panicked that she’d said the words aloud.

Her heart began to race and she felt a sudden flush of heat, causing her to sway on her already aching feet. Tom instinctively moved to steady her, his warm hand wrapping around Grace's feverish arm and supporting her.

“Shit! Are you okay? You're burning up!” he looked down at her in concern. Grace’s eyes seemed a little glazed over and her cheeks were rosy. A few moments passed before she finally responded.

“Erm… yeah. Sorry about that… long day… y’know? Lots of travel. Oh yeah and I probably shouldn’t have mixed cider with my pain meds!” she giggled, then noticing Tom’s frowning face, smiled reassuringly up at him “I’m fine. Just a bad mosi bite!” 

Grace lifted her poorly ankle to show Tom, wobbling even more precariously than before. Tom reached out to right her, his other hand now gripping her shoulder.

They stood like that for what seemed like ages but which was no doubt no more than a few moments before Grace suddenly pulled away.

She needed to go to bed. _Now!_

Bed. 

Ah yes! 

Still feeling guilty about Tom having to squash up on the sofa she blurted out “Do you want to sleep in my bed Tom?”

“Eh? W... What?!” Tom spluttered, his mind going into overdrive. He had sworn that he would be civil and nothing more. There was no way he could go through another morning-after like the last one.

Tom’s cock, of course, had other ideas and began to swell, pressing obscenely against his thin sleep shorts.

Grace, who had lurched towards her backpack intending to drag it to her room, was now at eye level with the prominently growing bulge and gasped, her muddled head not initially recognising how ambiguous her invitation had been. When she replayed her words she cringed, her cheeks glowing crimson as she looked up at Tom’s flushed face.

“Shit sorry! I meant do you want to sleep in there” she pointed towards her bedroom “and I’ll sleep here” she pointed to the sofa. But her mouth refused to stop there and she continued “so yeah… you’d be in there. In my bed. All alone... And I’d be out here. In your sleeping bag… All alone. Not together. ‘Cos y’know, we both know what would happen if we were in a bed together…”

Tom’s eyes were wide, frantically trying to control his breathing as he listened to Grace’s bizarre diatribe. Meanwhile Grace’s brain was willing her mouth to stop but it seemed to have other ideas.

“That is, unless you want me to sleep in there?” she pointed again at her room “I really don't mind either way you see... I often fall asleep out here with the TV on anyway and It's pretty comfy, but then again i'm much smaller than you… Mmm. You’re far too big to be sleeping on the sofa…” Grace licked her lips, her eyes flickering down towards his tented shorts "you should _definitely_ sleep in my bed..."

Tom frantically rubbed the back of his neck, where a thin layer of perspiration had begun to settle on his skin. 

Although Grace was rambling on about sleeping wherever he was not, there was definitely something in the way she was looking at him that told a completely different story. 

 _No_! He’d been wrong about this before! Grace was just over-tired. Last time she’d been drunk… 

Was she just using him?

Tom was beginning to sense a pattern. Reluctantly, and with his body still betraying him, he summoned every ounce of willpower and shook his head, his curls bouncing wildly. 

“No. I’m fine out here thank you very much" he spoke curtly "But you should definitely get some sleep. _Alone_. In your bedroom.” 

Grace’s shoulders dropped and Tom almost waivered, biting his lip to stop himself from opening his mouth.

“Okay…” she huffed, gripping her heavy bag and dragging it painfully slowly across the floor towards her bedroom.

Tom fought with his desire to help her, watching on as she struggled with the huge backpack. He knew it was terrible of him not to at least offer to help but he honestly didn’t trust himself near her in his current state. 

Certainly not in _her_ current state either!

And most definitely not in her bedroom… 

As Grace finally reached the door to her room and shoved it open, Tom noticed just how red and swollen the lump on her bare ankle was and felt even guiltier.

“Grace, is that thing okay?” he pointed down at the infected bite “maybe I should call a doctor?”

“It’s fine Thomas! I saw one before we flew home” she replied snippily “And I have meds okay? They just need a few days to kick in” 

Grace rolled her eyes and huffed again. Oh _now_ he wanted to act all chivalrous did he?!

He’d just fucking stood and watched her struggle with her bag for God’s sake! Could he not see how exhausted she was? 

Well screw him!

 _No! Not going there again_ … She groaned to herself.

“Goodnight… Thomas” and with that, Grace slammed her bedroom door behind her and collapsed onto her bed in a confusing combination of frustration and exhaustion.

Moments later she was snoring.

Outside Tom was mentally replaying what had just transpired and was equal parts confused and proud of his willpower. 

Dear God he deserved a fucking medal!

Of course he would have liked to be sleeping in Grace’s bed right now... 

But not alone! _With her_ …

And not actually sleeping!

As that clearly had not been the sensible option he’d done the gentlemanly thing and refused. 

He was, after all, a man. It was the chivalrous thing to do, wasn’t it? A real man would never take advantage of a lady. Nor would that same man take a ladies comfortable bed and make her sleep on the sofa.

Besides, he would be back late from the theatre most nights anyway. It wouldn’t be fair to wake her every night when he came in...

With a resigned sigh, knowing that he’d done the right - if not altogether desirable - thing Tom flopped onto the sofa, wriggling until his long limbs found some semblance of comfort and his over-thinking brain finally switched off.

*

The following morning Tom left the flat at the crack of dawn. There was no sound from Grace’s room and he was thankful of that.

A gruelling ten mile run got his blood pumping somewhere other than his cock and when that was done he ate in the small coffee shop at the bottom of The Mound that had become his regular haunt.

The pretty waitress flirted with him just like every other day but he was oblivious as he mulled over last night's bizarre events.

Grace had acted very strange... He knew he was no expert but there were all sorts of mixed signals and he found himself questioning his own part in it. 

Finishing his coffee and pastries Tom decided to take some back for Grace as a peace offering - still not altogether sure of what the hell had happened. As he walked slowly back up The Mount he noticed the chemist pulling up it's shutters for the day and his thoughts returned to Grace again, this time to her inflamed ankle. 

Without knowing why, Tom found himself entering the clinical looking shop, looking anxiously around at all the various tinctures and ointments. 

"Condoms is it laddie?"

"Eh? S...sorry... W...What?" Tom spluttered, almost dropping the bag of pastries and the cup of coffee in shock.

"Condoms. That's what you nervous young laddie's are usually after when you come in here..." the stout man pointed over to a Durex display and Tom’s face turned crimson as his palms started to sweat.

"No!" he gasped "No! I... my friend just got home from Thailand and has a nasty bite on her foot..." 

"Ah... begging your pardon! What's the wee girl wanting?"

"I... I don't really know" Tom frowned "She said she had medicine. But it looked so sore. I just wondered if there was anything I could get to help soothe it at least?"

"Well she could try some Aloe Vera gel. But probably one of the best things is a simple cold compress or ice pack. Has she got one?"

"I don't know. Better give me one, and throw in the Aloe Vera as well, yeah?" Tom's frown deepened, hoping he wasn’t overstepping the line by doing this behind Grace’s back. 

The stout pharmacist bagged up the Aloe gel and ice pack, watching with amusement as the gangly young lad tried to balance the takeaway coffee cup in one hand, whilst picking up the pastries and his purchases in the other, his eyes flicking shiftily over towards the Durex stand as he made his way towards the door. The pharmacist couldn’t resist asking:

"Soft for her are ye?" 

"Oh God no!" Tom blurted without thinking "the complete opposite!"

The older man guffawed at that, memories of what it was like to be young and pumped full of hormones coming back to him. Walking out from behind the counter, he helped Tom with the door, patting him on the back and chuckling "Well laddie. At least you know where the condoms are now! Good luck!"

With that the pharmacist closed the door behind a still blushing Tom.

Jesus! Was it that obvious? He really needed to get himself in check!

For a second he considered ditching his purchases,  but he couldn’t bring himself to throw away things that might make Grace feel even a little better, the coffee and food no exception. 

So with a nervous sigh he made his way up the final few yards towards the flat, where he hoped he would be able to somehow not make a fool of himself around her for at least one day.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any typos etc... I'm uploading this sat by a pool on my mobile :/
> 
> Also apologies to any poor Scot that reads my God awful attempt at dialect! IT was written with much love I swear (half Scottish and adore Edinburgh) <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV from Grace and Tom

 

Grace woke to the sound of the heavy door banging shut and checked the alarm clock before sighing in relief.

It was a little after ten in the morning.

That must be Tom leaving for the day. She assumed he must have rehearsals, a foggy memory of Sarah telling her that the play’s opening night would be tomorrow.

With that in mind Grace yawned and stretched, her travel weary body groaning in protest as she unfurled herself from the awkward sleeping position she must have passed out in last night.

Oh God!

_Last night!_

Grace groaned as she started to remember what an idiot she’d made of herself, practically begging Tom to sleep in her bed...

If she was being totally honest she _still_ wasn’t sure what the hell that was all about! She only remembered the way her body had reacted to seeing him again. Her palms had been sweaty, her voice stuttering and her heart pounding.

_It was just the meds Grace!_

Shit! Her meds…

As if waking from its own dreamless sleep, right on cue Grace’s ankle began to throb painfully and she winced, realising she was late for her next dose.

Still bleary eyed she hobbled over to the door to get a glass of water, only to open the door and come chin to chest with the slim but solid torso of Tom.

“Jesus Tom! You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!” Grace clasped a hand to her chest, unaware that Tom’s eye’s immediately followed her delicate fingers as her pinkie pointed to a tauntingly erect nipple pushing against her thin T shirt.

Taking a step back Tom had to bite back a combined groan of arousal with one of irritation as his eyes darted over the slogan emblazoned across her chest:

**_It doesn’t get Eddie Vedder than this!_ **

Right. _Perfect…_

She’d happily sleep with Eddie- _fucking_ -Vedder next to her chest, wouldn’t she!

_Not him though…_

"Sorry! I-" he began.

“I thought you were out for the day!”

_Charming!_

“No…” Tom tried to measure the irritation rising in his voice at her obvious disappointment “I went for a run and got some breakfast on the way back. Here…” he thrust a paper takeaway bag at her, along with a disposable cup of lukewarm coffee. 

Grace immediately felt guilty for being so offhand with him. It wasn’t his fault he was stupid enough to think she was worth his attention. She sighed and shook her head “I’m… I’m sorry Tom! That was rude of me… can we start over?”

One eyebrow quirked impossibly as Tom’s crystal clear blue eyes brightened with hope.

“I’d like that Grace…” his cheeks turned pink as his tongue darted between his thin lips, only for them to turn upwards into a warm smile as he started to bounce from foot to foot excitedly.

“Here. Give me that coffee. I’ll warm it up for you” Tom grabbed the cup, taking only three strides to reach the open plan kitchenette. “There’s a box of pastries from _Café Musa_ in that bag along with some stuff for your ankle.”

Grace looked shiftily from the paper bag to Tom’s concerned face and back again as he leant against the worktop, not understanding how someone she had been so repeatedly mean to could still be so kind to her. She found her flaming cheeks matching Tom’s as she stuttered out a shocked "thank you".

“It’s no problem. I was worried about you…” Tom’s eyes fixed her with an uneasy glance before darting back towards the microwave, where he had started to warm her coffee.

“I spoke to the pharmacist and he suggested using that stuff” he nodded towards the plastic pharmacy bag that Grace had just pulled out of the larger bag and continued “maybe you could try the aloe gel for now while the ice pack freezes?”

“Um… erm… okay. I need to take my meds first anyway…” Grace suddenly remembered the reason she’d originally gotten out of bed and squeezed past Tom as she joined him inside the tiny galley kitchen, laying the bag on the worktop beside the sink.

She bit her lip as she felt the warmth of Tom’s knee brush against her bare thigh - still damp from his earlier exercise - and became acutely aware of how short her sleep shirt was, one hand tugging self-consciously at the hem whilst the other stretched to get a glass from the cupboard over the sink.

Despite Tom’s best intentions earlier not to allow himself to become affected by Grace, he found himself stifling another moan as he caught a glimpse of her purple lace covered ass cheeks as, in spite of her feeble attempts, the firm lower globes of her bum were revealed.

Turning abruptly back to the microwave - his own rounded ass pressing lightly against Grace’s back - Tom’s shaking hands gripped the worktop as he prayed for some divine intervention from his steadily hardening dick inside his thin sports shorts.

Grace gasped in a deep breath of air at Tom’s inadvertent touch, her head swirling as the musky, [androstenol](http://www.sirc.org/publik/smell_attract.html) laced scent of him permeated her nostrils.

Biting her lip to stifle a moan as the memory of the same scent – from some three or so weeks ago - came crashing back to her, Grace’s shaking hands filled the glass with water and pushed back past Tom’s warm body as she headed straight to her room to grab her meds, _and perhaps more importantly_ , to compose herself before she did something they would both inevitably regret once again. 

Tom sagged with relief as she left the kitchen, his eyes betraying his resolve as they lingered on her tanned legs as she awkwardly walked the short distance back to her room, one hand still clinging to the hem of her oversized T shirt.

Taking the brief moment of isolation to adjust his painfully hard cock, praying his body’s betrayal wouldn’t be _too_ obvious, Tom set about putting the ice pack in the freezer then grabbing a plate and laying out the various pastries.

The beep of the microwave coincided with Grace’s return, and Tom was half disappointed, half relieved to note that she had pulled on a pair of leggings under her baggy shirt.

She walked uncertainly to the pull out table and a small smile formed on her still flushed face as she spotted all her favourite pastries. Her stomach growled loudly, causing Tom to quirk that damned expressive eyebrow of his again before they both burst out laughing, the earlier sexual tension thankfully dissipating as Tom pulled out a chair for Grace with a flourish and placed the steaming cup of coffee alongside the plate of goodies.

“It seems from the sound of your belly I might actually have done something right for once!” Tom teased, a wide grin on his face.

Despite the obvious dig, Grace grinned back and grabbed a pain au chocolat, not even attempting to be ladylike as she demolished the pastry in seconds. Tom smiled at the relish with which she ate a second, until the sight of a thin smear of chocolate on her plump lower lip had the tips of his fingers twitching as he fought the urge to wipe it clean.

Not wanting to do anything to threaten their newly forged truce, Tom shook his head free of such thoughts and made a show of sniffing his armpits and wrinkling his nose.

“Well. I’d better go and get in the shower before you have to fumigate the flat!” he joked, not noticing the shadow of disappointment that flickered over Grace’s pink cheeks.

As the door to the bathroom closed and the sound of the shower started to drift through the flat, Grace sipped from the steaming cup of coffee, trying desperately not to think of a sweaty, naked Tom just on the other side of the door and all the possibilities that could entail.

No longer needing to stifle her moans, she closed her eyes and allowed an almost animalistic roar of pent up frustration to escape her lips before reluctantly heading back into her own bedroom to start unpacking. Turning on her stereo, the soothingly melodic sound of [Eddie's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRh0DDeSEtk) voice made her task a little easier. 

*

When Grace had finally finished unpacking, bundling the first pile of dirty clothes against her chest as she fumbled open her bedroom door, she was disappointed to find the bathroom door open and both that and the lounge empty.

Dumping the washing in front of the machine, her shoulders slumped as she spotted the scrawled note from Tom:

**_Off to rehearsals. Didn’t want to disturb you. Remember to use that stuff I got you on your ankle! :)_ **

Her eyebrows raised as she re-read the final sentence. Maybe she was reading far too much into it, but there was something in Tom’s repeated concern for her health that made her heart beat just that little bit faster.

She was unaccustomed to someone looking out for her.

And though she hated to admit it, _she liked it_.

Looking again around the empty room a surge of loneliness washed over her and she wondered how long Tom would be at rehearsals.

Sighing at her conflicting emotional state, she busied herself with setting the washing machine cycle, before heading out herself to stock up on groceries. From a quick glance in the bin as she’d cleared away the remains from the coffee shop, it was clear Tom had been living mainly on takeaway food rather than cooking himself.

She would thank him for his earlier kindness by preparing a home cooked dinner for them both to eat after he returned from rehearsals.

*

It was almost midnight when Tom crept into the flat. The hall was dark and he assumed Grace must have already gone to bed so he did his best to close the heavy door as quietly as possible.

He couldn’t avoid the sinking feeling that settled in his stomach though. Tom had really wanted to tell someone how well his final dress rehearsal had gone, and having now seemingly reached a fragile truce with Grace, he had hoped it would be her that he shared his great news with.

But alas, Tom sighed, it would have to wait until the morning.

However, as he reached the end of the hallway he realised he could hear a dull sound coming from the lounge. Tom's heart lifted and he took a deep breath before walking into the room.

The lounge was in almost total darkness, save for the flickering of the TV in front of him - also the source of noise. An old episode of Fawlty Towers was playing and he chuckled to himself as he watched Basil Fawlty realise that his waiter was keeping a [rat](https://youtu.be/tfly-7A8nwg?t=5m56s) as a pet.

He turned back towards the sofa, opening his mouth to compliment Grace on her choice of show, knowing full well she knew how much he loved watching the programme, but stopped himself.

The sight before him caught his breath.

Grace lay, fast asleep and snuggled into one of the sofa's scatter cushions, her thick hair casting a curtain of mystery over one half of her otherwise angelic looking face. The tension he’d caught her carrying in her expressions earlier had left her completely. 

Tom licked his lips as his gaze moved from her face down to her body.

The creamy soft looking skin of Grace’s chest rose and fell as she slept, oblivious to his lecherous stare. The silken globes of her breasts peeked out tauntingly from under the thin blanket and the delicate camisole she’d traded for her earlier oversized T shirt.

How easy it would be to just reach out and touch her.

 _Touch_ _them_.

His fingers twitched at the flesh memory of their weight, how easily they filled his hands as he cupped them, how responsive her nipples were to his touch as they grazed his palms.

A low groan escaped Tom’s mouth as he imagined sucking those rosy buds, teasing them into hard peaks with his tongue before nuzzling his cheek against the soft, pliant skin of her breasts. His fingers twitched again, aching to run them over her body and up through her tousled mass of hair, imagining swallowing her gasps of ecstasy against his own panting mouth.

His cock stiffened painfully at such libidinous thoughts and for the briefest moment he almost threw caution to the wind and succumbed to his base desires.

But Grace had _insisted_ that it couldn't happen again and despite the way she’d looked at him last night he couldn’t risk alienating her anew.

Instead Tom forced himself to remember how devastated he’d been as she’d pleaded with him to see sense, to understand that they could not possibly work. The painful memory of that gloriously sunny afternoon suddenly came crashing back to him and he felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

Yet he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from her inviting features, entranced as her breathing quickened and her lips parted, her glistening tongue darting out as a low whimper escaped her mouth.

Once again Tom waivered, remembering the way Grace had practically invited him into her bed last night.

She’d practically eye fucked his crotch!

_Hadn’t she?_

Christ! It was times like these that he wished he had more experience. The woman lying in front of him was a walking contradiction!

Tearing his eyes reluctantly away from her he looked at the clock.

_Fuck! He still needed to eat!_

And then he _needed_ to sleep. Tomorrow was a massive day. He had no time for distractions right now. Even ones as delicious as the one lay out in front of him.

With a silent huff of frustration, he tiptoed as quietly as he could towards the kitchen, hoping there was still some pastries remaining from earlier. However, he stopped in his tracks, his nostrils twitching as they were filled with the aroma of what looked like some type of hearty stew on the hob.

Leaning over the large pan, Tom’s mouth watered and his stomach growled ravenously. He hesitated for the merest moment, wondering if Grace would mind him heating a bowl of the delicious smelling concoction, before searing hunger pangs took over and he grabbed a bowl from the drainer, filling it with huge ladles full of beef, vegetables and potatoes in a rich gravy.

But then Tom realised he had another dilemma. To eat it hot would require him to use the microwave, but in doing so he would wake Grace. However, he finally realised that even if he were to eat the stew cold he would still have to wake her in order to get some sleep himself on the sofa so, having set the microwave he crept back into the lounge and knelt in front of her still sleeping body, his long fingers finally succumbing to temptation as he lightly stroked her warm cheek.

“Grace…” he whispered reverently, watching as her long eyelashes fluttered in the faint light and her lips smacked gently together.

“Grace…” Tom whispered again, this time a little louder as his hand slipped down to her bare shoulder and gently shook her awake.

Grace started upright, her somnolent eyes trying to focus on what had roused her.

She’d been having such a lovely dream - _one full of sensuous yet probing caresses which left her lips kiss bruised_ – yet when she ran her wet tongue over her lips, she was disappointed to realise it really was just that.  _A dream_.  

Colour flooded her cheeks once more as she discovered Tom staring at her, an unreadable look in his eyes, and she panicked, worrying her lip as she wondered if he knew she’d been dreaming about _him_.

Oh fuck! This was just becoming more and more of a mess!

Casting her eyes down to her exposed chest she instinctively covered her heated body over with the thin blanket and rubbed at her eyes.

“S…sorry” she yawned “I must have drifted off. What time is it?” her eyes darted around towards the clock just as simultaneously Tom answered her and the microwave bleeped to signal his food was ready.

“Um… it’s just gone midnight. I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want to wake you but I needed to eat and I have to get some sleep so I’m ready for tomorrow” Tom spoke apologetically.

“It's fine... There’s beef stew on the hob. I made it for y- erm… I made a batch for us. I figured you could do with a home cooked meal and I was craving something a bit less spicy than the food in Thailand!”

Tom grinned at this unexpected gesture from Grace, his tired brain not noticing her stutter, and instinctively went to hug her in thanks before checking himself and forcing himself to remember the new dynamic of their friendship.

“Erm… Thanks so much! To be honest I’m relieved you said that, ‘cos I smelled it when I came in and was going to nick a bowl of it anyway” Tom admitted sheepishly before standing back up and going to retrieve his food, flicking on the kitchen light now that Grace was awake.

Tom sat at the table and emptied the bowl in a matter of mere minutes, groaning in pleasure with each mouthful and, with Grace’s delighted encouragement, helped himself to a second bowl which he cleared with equal relish.

Patting his full stomach he thanked Grace again and she shrugged “It’s no big deal. I was making some for myself anyway… plus I owed you for this morning. Thanks for the aloe gel by the way. It really helped with the itching.”

"Good. The pharmacist said it should"

"So, how was dress rehearsal?"

Tom looked up, surprised she remembered.

"Really good I think. I don't want to sound over confident but I think we're ready..."

"That's great. I'm sure you'll be fab..."

They sat in a somewhat charged silence for a few moments before the sound of a gunshot made them both jump and Tom’s eyes fell back towards the television.

“Oh God! I love this one” he guffawed, watching as Basil Fawlty wrestled a gun from the befuddled Major Gowen.

The pair watched the rest of the show, beginning to relax as they both laughed at the same jokes and the increasingly anarchic behaviour of its protagonist. When the titles rolled, Grace took that as her signal to say goodnight.

They both stood, nervously looking at the other, before Grace suddenly waved her hand and wished him a good sleep, dashing into the bathroom to wash up and clean her teeth before Tom could even respond.

As Grace made her way back out he stopped her, holding out a square of cardboard towards her.

“Grace? Would…erm… would you like to come to the opening night tomorrow?” he asked, his voice shaky as he avoided her eyes, instead focusing on her small hand closest to his outstretched one as she rubbed it slowly down over her clothed thigh.

“Is… is that a good idea?” he heard her voice, nervous, probing and his shoulders dropped for a moment but then he thought ‘ _screw it!’_

“You know what? _Yes!_ It is a good idea! A bloody great one in fact! I need all the friendly faces I can get in the audience if i'm being completely honest... and my dad’s coming. You could keep him company. I know you miss him…” his voice trailed off as his eyes flicked over to the row of photographs above the fireplace “and I’m certain he would love to see you too. He’s very fond of you Grace.”

Grace’s eyes glazed with tears as she followed Tom’s gaze, realising that he had easily figured her out simply by the significance of each photograph. Strangely, instead of feeling embarrassed, she felt nothing but a sense of relief and she nodded, her hand reaching out to take the ticket from Tom’s, whispering in a trembling voice “Thank you Tom. I’d love to.”

Their thumbs brushed briefly but neither dared acknowledge the flutter the touch ignited in their hearts, instead saying their goodnight's and settling into their respective sleeping quarters to contemplate what tomorrow would bring.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay i'm home, and feverishly editing all the stuff I wrote on holiday. There are some BIG chapters coming up, and hopefully updates will be more frequent now... Thanks as ever to my loyal readers and all those newbies who have recently been dragged into my angsty ramblings. I hope to reward your patience soon <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's opening night at The Fringe... (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV

 

The following morning Tom woke early, his mind still full of the image of Grace lay out like some forbidden feast on the sofa. Licking his dry lips, he unfurled his aching limbs from the small sofa and stretched, ignoring his ubiquitous hard-on and deciding instead to forego his morning run for an invigoratingly cold shower before he headed down to the shops and then straight on to the theatre for the final dress rehearsal.

As he soaped himself up Tom replayed the events of the previous night with Grace and his own restless night after she’d headed off to bed. At first he’d laid in bed wondering if he’d made a huge mistake in inviting Grace to his opening night.

_What if she thought he was shit?_

He was barely coping with her rejection of his affection. _Could he deal with her rejecting his acting ability as well?_

Those tumultuous thoughts unsettled him, until another realisation suddenly came to him. Thinking of his dad being the only family member coming to opening night, Tom remembered the reason why he had suggested that his mum and sisters came tomorrow instead.

And that was when he started to formulate a plan. A plan to show Grace that he could be mature about what had transpired between them, and perhaps more importantly, that he didn’t hold a grudge.

Towelling himself dry, Tom dressed hurriedly and headed into the tiny kitchen. There was still no sound from Grace’s room so he made himself a quick bacon sandwich, before grabbing the only smart shirt and trousers he’d brought up to Edinburgh with him and heading out for the day.

*

Later that day Grace took her seat in the small theatre alongside Tom’s father, using her programme to fan herself. The room was stiflingly hot, on account of an unaccustomed heatwave and no functioning air conditioning, so Grace was sweating before the play had even begun.

She hadn’t dared go backstage beforehand but James had and he’d told her how nervous yet excited Tom was to finally perform the play in front of an audience.

As Grace sat silently fanning herself, her mind started to wander and she questioned how the hell she’d ended up agreeing to this. She’d already gone above and beyond what she’d originally agreed to last month by even hosting Tom in her flat.

She couldn’t help but wonder if this might just be a step too far...

And yet, if she was being completely honest with herself – _something she was often loathe to do_ – she had to admit that she’d been a little disappointed when she’d woken earlier that morning to find the flat empty. _Again_.

It was almost as if Tom was avoiding her…

_Well whose fault was that, eh Grace?_

Shaking her head free of such troublesome thoughts she realised that James was looking at her curiously.

 _Oh crap! Had he been speaking to her?_ She realised she needed to get her head out of the clouds, stop thinking about that _boy_ and start concentrating!

“So… Grace! Sarah tells me you’re doing really well up here in Edinburgh! I’m so very proud of you…” his brow furrowed, reminding her of Sarah – _and Tom_ \- as he continued “I know things haven’t been easy for you over the years.”

Grace forced down that familiar sense of jealousy that _this_ man wasn’t her father instead of the hard-faced, emotionally vacant man she’d somehow been allocated in life.

“Thanks Mr H” she tried to smile, the sudden thought of her parents being God-only-knows-where the night before her birthday making her chin wobble.

James didn’t miss the young girl’s gulp and wrapped a long arm around her shoulder, awkwardly pulling her into a hug across the arm of the stall seating.

“Oh sweetheart, I didn’t mean to upset you. I hope you know, both myself and Diana will _always_ be here for you if you ever need anything. And I mean that Grace. _Anything_. You understand me?”

Grace didn’t trust herself to speak, merely nodding her understanding as she sniffled back the tears that were close to falling.

James’s hug coincided with the dimming of the lights so reluctantly Grace moved out of the nurturing warmth and back stiffly into her seat, praying that the performance would be over as soon as possible so that she could just go home and wallow in her melancholia.

Yet forty minutes into the play Grace was completely invigorated.

Tom's performance was electric, making Grace even more uncomfortably hot in the stifling heat of the small theatre. It didn’t help that whenever his character, Stanhope, spoke of his childhood friend turned potential fiancée – Tom at one point looking directly at her as he declared “ _all of a sudden she seemed to be a pretty topping girl…_ ” – she couldn’t help but to see a fragile parallel between Tom the actor’s character and Tom the boy next door as his lips turned up into a wistful smile.

By the intermission she was squirming in her seat, his [portrayal](http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/edinburgh-festival-99-theatre-review-1115565.html) overwhelming in its magnificent ferocity juxtaposed with such heart-breaking vulnerability. 

So, while James excused himself to use the restroom Grace headed straight for the bar. Two double vodkas later her head was swimming. Unfortunately the alcohol did little to douse the disconcerting throb between her thighs. She felt guilty for having such an intensely sexual reaction, especially given the theme of the play and yet she seemed to be powerless to her body’s response.

The final act was no different. Tom's presence on stage was overwhelming. Intense.

 _Stimulating_.

And yet, when Tom uttered his final lines and headed off to join his men in what was most likely certain death Grace found she was an emotional wreck, barely able to hide her shaking hands as she wiped silent tears away from her eyes.

As the final curtain fell, the entire audience rose to its feet, applauding wildly and whooping as the cast slowly filed back out, each taking their bows in turn. Not surprisingly, Tom received a rapturous chorus of applause along with loud cheers and as he took his final bow he looked directly to where his father and Grace had been sitting. James stretched his arms up high above his head and slowly clapped his son, his own eyes glistening with proud tears, whilst Grace simply stared back at the tall young man, her chest thumping as their eyes finally connected, and bit down hard on her lip before releasing a stuttering breath.

As Tom rose with a flourish and moved back to join his fellow cast in one final, united bow James linked her arm, pulling her with him towards the curtained exit, showing a piece of paper to the doorman who ushered them through.

“I… I think the exit’s that way?” Grace pointed in confusion to the door behind them where the audience were slowly filing out.

“It is my dear. But we’re going to meet Tom backstage for a quick drink with his fellow cast members and then I’m taking you both out for a celebration supper!” James beamed as he escorted her down a bustling corridor.

“Oh. Erm… I really don’t want to impose Mr H. I’ll just make my way back home. Tom probably wants you to himself tonight!” Grace tried to gather her senses.

_She was in absolutely no fit state to see Tom right now!_

“Nonsense Grace! I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to share me for one evening. And it will feel like more of a celebration if it’s not just Tom and me! Besides, you must be just as starved as I am, no?”

James looked pointedly at her and Grace’s resolve disappeared. She had no answer to that. To leave now would just seem downright rude. _Not to mention petty._

James was right. Tom deserved a celebration after that performance!  

“Oka-”

Her answer was cut off by the sound of James shouting his son’s name to get his attention.

“Tom! Tom! Over here!”

Tom came bounding across, having quickly changed into a plain white dress shirt and a pair of navy tailored trousers, his mop of blond curls still damp from the stage lights and humidity, his tanned face flushed and his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Oh my son, you were incredible! Amazing, wasn’t he Grace?” James clapped Tom on the back before pulling him into a proud hug as Grace looked on, feeling a peculiar flutter in her tummy as it occurred to her that she was looking at Tom in a completely new light.

“I can’t get over how far you’ve come - from all that showing off in the garden… to _this!_ You really communicated something deep and profound on that stage. Honestly son. You were amazing in it!” James gushed, his usually harsh Glaswegian accent softening with the faintest tremor as James gulped back tears of pride.

“Dad…” Tom beamed “Thank you!”

Reluctantly releasing his son, James took one step back so that Grace could greet him.

In that moment it was like they were back in the playhouse, just the two of them, as Tom’s crystalline blue eyes looked down expectantly into Grace’s cornflower ones, seemingly waiting for her to speak.

Her heart mirrored her tummy and fluttered, causing her to bite her lip. Tom’s eyes dropped, not missing the gesture.

Taking a deep gulp she gasped out “You were… _breath-taking!_ ” her cheeks burning in embarrassment at her pitifully breathy voice.

If Tom noticed he didn’t draw attention to it. He merely licked his lips before breaking out into a wide grin, his tongue still peeping out tantalisingly from between his teeth.

He took a step closer and leant forward as if to maybe hug her but was interrupted by an abrupt slap on his back, causing him to turn on his toes into the waiting arms of the actor who’d portrayed Osborne.

“Great job! Pitch perfect, just as we discussed earlier…” the older man yelled gleefully over the noise of the now bustling room before noticing James and Grace over Tom’s shoulder “Oh, I’m so sorry! Did I interrupt something?”

Tom shook his head, following the man’s eyes and Grace’s cheeks burned even deeper, inexplicably hurt by Tom’s apparent dismissal. Looking away as the two men continued to chat, she spotted a table filled with glasses of what looked like some form of alcohol, along with a few trays of cheese and biscuits and swiftly excused herself, making a beeline for it. Grabbing a glass, she quickly downed the contents, the cheap fizz making her cough as the bubbles tickled her throat.

Not for the first time that evening she found herself questioning why she had come here tonight.

She had sworn after that night back in Oxford that she would _never_ let herself get into this situation again but just look at her! She was a fucking simpering mess - _again!_

Making the decision to sneak away to the relative safety of her flat – _well at least until Tom returned_ – Grace put her empty glass down and headed back towards the curtained entrance they’d used earlier.   

“Grace…wait…” the sound of Tom’s deep voice rose above the cacophony around them and she paused, taking a deep, stuttering breath and warning herself not to make an idiot of herself.

“What?” she huffed churlishly, turning as she exhaled slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the rapid rise and fall of Tom’s broad chest as the buttons of his white shirt strained with each inhale.

Biting back a moan as she realised she could also make out his nipples with each tightening of the already close-fitting shirt, Grace forced herself to look away.

Not down of course...

She’d learned _that_ lesson the hard way - _excuse the pun!_

No, Grace looked around the room, at the ceiling, down to her feet. Anywhere but at this towering man, because though she hated to admitted it, Grace _finally_ realised he was just that.

_A man!_

And that realisation scared her.

“Ah Tom! You’ve found her. Excellent! Ready to go Grace?” James appeared by her side and she closed her eyes for a second, realising she was not getting away that easily. She took a deep, if somewhat stuttering, breath before smiling up at the two men, not allowing her eyes to settle too long on Tom’s unsettling gaze.

“Sorry yes, I was just going to nip to the restroom, but I think I got lost” she let out an unnaturally high pitched giggle, causing Tom’s left eyebrow to rise, but he said nothing.

“Righto… Can you hold on five minutes? The restaurant is only around the corner and it’s bound to be a lot less busy than here.”

Grace nodded mutely, afraid of what bizarre noise she was going to utter next. But before she was able to take another breath she was being guided back across the room towards an exit she had not previously seen.  

It was a balmy evening and Grace tried not to wobble on her heels as they walked the short distance to the restaurant along the cobbled street. Once inside they were lead to their table and as they were seated, father and son chatted amiably as she simply listened, still trying to compose herself.

“I’m bloody starving Tom! I was too nervous for you to eat earlier. How about you?” James groaned, rubbing his tummy as he looked over the menu.

“I’m famished! I haven’t eaten since breakfast…” Tom admitted, garnering a stern look from his father followed by a playful elbow to his ribs “Better not let your mother know that! She wouldn’t be happy!”

Grace couldn’t help but smile as she imagined Diana’s disapproving tone as she chastised him - ‘ _you’ll faint Thomas! Then what will you do?’_

“Something funny?” Tom quirked his eyebrow at the unusually quiet woman alongside him and Grace shrugged her shoulders, unable to meet his eyes.

There was a tense silence as they each looked intently over their menus, only broken by the arrival of the waitress. She took Grace’s order first, followed by James’s before turning to Tom.

As Tom pointed to the steak, asking about its accompaniments Grace watched their exchange unfold. The woman was maybe a year or two older than Grace, and as Tom rattled off a long list of extra’s including extra vegetables, two sauces, onion rings and a double portion of garlic bread, Grace was dumbfounded to see the woman wink at Tom, blatantly giving him the eye as she leant over and patted his sprawling thigh whispering something that only he heard and which resulted in an “ _Ehehehe_ ” from Tom.

Grace’s eyes narrowed furiously as she watched their exchange. For all this brazen hussy knew, Tom could have been her boyfriend!

_But he wasn’t Grace, was he? And whose fault was that, eh?_

As the waitress took away their menus, again winking at Tom, James asked conversationally "So Grace, any young men in your life at the moment?" completely oblivious to the way his son's mouth pursed at the question.

Grace, for her part, turned crimson as she muttered an unconvincing "Erm... no. No, there isn't" her eyes darting between the two Hiddleston men sat waiting for her response.

She couldn’t be certain but she thought she saw Tom’s jaw tighten for a millisecond before relaxing into the tiniest of smiles, which only made her already ruffled demeanour prickle.

"Best way to be at your age. Don't get yourselves tied down this young" James nodded first at Grace and then at his son, unaware of the underlying tension between the two young people.

"Erm... no. No, I won't" Grace mumbled "Will you excuse me? I just realised, I still haven’t been to the loo..."

Before either could respond Grace shoved her chair back and wobbled to the restrooms, her sore ankle beginning to throb from walking in the heels and her cheeks blazing with embarrassment at her own lack of decorum at the dinner table.

"Is she okay son?" James watched the young girl curiously, his eyebrows raising as she almost walked into a table.

Tom followed his father's gaze and rubbed his neck anxiously as he saw the same thing his father did. 

"Eh... I think so?" he shrugged defensively "How would I know?"

"Tom, you're living in the same bloody flat as her! If anyone knows surely it’s you?!"

Tom’s face began to burn and he couldn’t bring himself to look at his father, knowing his dad had a sixth sense for bullshit and always knew when he was lying.

"Thomas..?" James’s broad Glaswegian accent became harder, making Tom jump and he tried his best to tamp down his nerves. Looking up, finally, his father's eyes bore into him, waiting for an answer and Tom’s heckles rose.

"Look I’m not her minder dad! We barely see one another okay? I've been at the theatre most of the time. And Grace only got back a couple of days ago! Why don't you ask her instead of interrogating me?"

James looked at his son sternly before sighing, wiping his large palm over his face in perfect symmetry with his son who was doing exactly the same thing.

"I'm sorry Tom. You're right. It isn't really any of our business anyway, I know that. But she's had such a rough ride with her parents, you know? And you have to admit she's acting very odd tonight!"

Tom sighed and nodded.

Watching as she stumbled back over towards their table he muttered sadly "it's her birthday tomorrow and they aren't even going to be here... _again_. She's probably upset about that"

"Oh Christ! I completely forgot. We should do something for her. Ah wait! Is that why your mum and the girls are coming tomorrow instead of tonight?”

Tom nodded and his father’s shoulders relaxed a little “Ah, good on them! That’ll help I’m sure”

James nodded in acknowledgement to Grace as she finally reached the table, standing with a gentlemanly air and pulling her chair back for her to sit down.

Pouring them each a glass of wine, James raised a toast to his son, congratulating him once again on his performance. Grace finally began to relax, joining in, and smiling as they each clinked glasses before taking a long sip of the fruity red.

Tom had just started to tell them how one of the other actors had narrowly avoided a wardrobe malfunction when their meals arrived.

Grace forced herself not to roll her eyes as the flirtatious waitress bent forward so that her newly revealed cleavage was right in Tom’s eye line, taking what seemed like forever to lay out his extra plates.

In a moment of impatience, Grace grabbed the final dish from her outstretched hand and waved her away with a clipped “ _Thank you._ _I_ can take it from here”

Tom raised his eyebrows but said nothing, seemingly oblivious to the green eyed monster that was slowly bubbling away inside Grace.

He instead began to greedily shovel piles of food into his mouth, the earlier nerves and adrenaline having finally started to wane, leaving him starving hungry, and the other two joined him, eating mostly in silence, save for the occasional _mm_ ’s and _aah’s_ in appreciation of their meals.

When their plates were clean and Tom had excused himself to pay his own visit to the restroom - _with Grace watching eagle-eyed in case he was intercepted by that tart of a waitress_ \- James winked at her knowingly and chuckled “You know he has a real soft spot for you, don’t you Grace?”

Grace’s eyes widened and she wrinkled her nose, looking down at her empty wine glass and wanting the ground to swallow her up.

_What in the world was she supposed to say to that?_

Maybe she could tell James how she had suddenly developed her own soft spot for his son? Maybe she could tell him how she couldn’t stop thinking of Tom, no matter whether it was night or day - and that _her_ soft spot was also permanently _wet?!_

Or maybe she should just start by telling Mr H how she’d emphatically defiled the playhouse that he’d so lovingly constructed with his bare hands by fucking the hell out of his beloved son - and his soft spot - in it just a few weeks ago?

_Yeah… maybe not…_

So instead she said nothing, thankful as Tom bounced happily back up to the table and sunk into his seat. That is, until a splayed knee from one of his ridiculously long legs brushed against her own bare knee causing her to clamp her thighs tightly shut.

Grace grabbed the wine bottle and shakily drained its remaining contents into her glass, despite the raised eyebrows of both men. Ignoring their concerned looks she tried to keep up with the conversation, oblivious to her increasingly slurred voice, as Tom eagerly finished his cheesecake.

It was only when they had finished their meals, rising to leave the table that Grace realised what a huge mistake she’d made. She’d drank – _again_ \- with her medication. And this time a damn sight more than a small bottle of cider!

The humid air collided with her already muddled brain and caused her to again stumble on the cobbled street in her heels. It was slow work making their way back to the bottom of The Mound, Grace refusing help from either of the Hiddleston men, insisting she was fine.

As they reached the fork in the road, separating into one leading up towards Grace’s flat and the other towards the train station, they stopped to say their goodbyes.

“Tom are you going to be okay with her?” James frowned doubtfully, watching on as Grace hugged a lamppost, giggling to herself as if she and the inanimate object were the best of friends.

With a deep sigh Tom nodded “I’ll be fine dad. If needs be I’ll just have to fuckin- _sorry…_ I’ll just rugby tackle her and put her over my shoulder then carry her up the stairs!”

Noting his father’s concerned look he tried his best to reassure him with a low chuckle “Ehehehe… It’ll be okay. I can practice my firemen’s lift. I’m sure it’ll come up in a role one day and at least she doesn’t weigh much…”

James noted the certainty in Tom’s voice, not realising just how accurately Tom was able to assess such a thing.

With a shout of goodbye to a completely oblivious Grace and a tight hug for his son, along with another “I’m so proud of you!” whispered into Tom’s ear, James left the two young people and made his way the short distance to Waverley train station.

Tom watched his father disappear into the night and with a resigned sigh returned his gaze back to Grace.

She was still hugging the lamppost, however her laughter had dissipated and she was now stood with one cheek pressed hard against the concrete column, her eyes flickering shut and her mouth open.

Rubbing the back of his neck Tom rolled his eyes, wondering how _his_ night of celebration had managed to end with him having to nursemaid Grace, and walked the short distance to the now subdued woman as she let out a delicate snore. He watched her for a second, his mouth turning up at the corners as she let out a tiny giggle in her sleep, immediately being juxtaposed with a loud belch and a groan.

“Ehehehe c’mon Princess Grace!” Tom couldn’t help but laugh despite his slight irritation at her “Let’s get you home!” And with a gentle tug he unfolded her now limp hands from the lamppost and gathered her up into his arms, trying not to think about the last time he’d been _this_ close to her.

Her head jerked backwards and as he steadied it with his bicep, her eyes fluttered open and fixed him with a watery stare. Grace licked her lips and then her eyes closed once more as she nuzzled her head dreamily into his chest with a soft moan.

Letting out the breath he’d been holding in, Tom started to walk up the hill back towards Grace’s flat, praying that she was too drunk to feel how fast his heart was beating against her cheek.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was one HUGE chapter so i've split it. the next should be up in the next 30 minutes or so...
> 
> Before anyone says anything, I KNOW Journey's End is set in WWI okay? But War Horse!Tom is too old and neatly groomed for our dear 18 year old Thomas. So, because young Tom looks so freaking adorable in 'Victoria Cross Heroes' I went with a gif from that. Just use your imagination and pretend he's in a trench wearing an officers uniform okay? If it helps, I at least made the theatre stifling hot so he'd be nice and sweaty ;)
> 
> Once again to all my lovely readers, your comments make my day. Hope you enjoy <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's opening night at The Fringe Part 2 (Multi POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* These two...

Reaching the doorway to the building, Tom faced another dilemma. The narrow stairwell wasn’t wide enough for him to carry her up in his arms. With a unenthusiastic groan from Grace and several comforting shushes from Tom, he had her momentarily stood – _or rather stooped_ \- upright, leaning her motionless body against the wall while he fumbled in his trousers for his door key.

Unlocking the door he wedged one foot in the doorway and grabbed Grace by the waist, slinging her over his shoulder just as he’d joked about doing with his father.

Only now Tom wasn’t laughing.

His large hands couldn’t avoid gripping her ass and bare legs and as she let out a low moan when he started to move he had to bite back his own.

From a night that had started with so much promise, how had he ended up here, with a half comatose woman over his shoulder and the knowledge that regardless of the painful erection his innocent touches were provoking, he had zero chance of getting any relief from this very same woman?

Trudging up the final two flights of stairs, Tom stopped again at the door, this time reluctantly loosening his grip on her silky soft thigh long enough to find the key. Inside he had to stoop as always, momentarily sending his centre of gravity off-kilter and waking Grace from her slumber with a disapproving groan as her head swayed and jerked forward.

Grace’s head thumped again something hard and she moaned, her vision blurred and her head completely disorientated.

She heard the sound of Tom grumbling close by and it was only as her head swayed and started moving again that she realised she was staring directly at Tom’s pert bottom.

Upside-fucking-down!

_Oh. Fucking. Christ! What had she done now?!_

The last thing Grace remembered was James telling her that Tom had the hot’s for her - _or something equally embarrassing_.

Well big fucking surprise Mr H! She snorted in a decidedly unladylike manner as she continued to stare lasciviously at the peachy arse undulating down below.

With another groan she reluctantly forced herself to focus her fuzzy brain somewhere else. Like what was Tom _doing_ with her?

Had he suddenly gone all Neanderthal on her? To Grace’s great surprise, _and very little shame_ , she found herself more than a little aroused at the prospect.

So it came as quite a disappointment when, instead of heading towards her bedroom, Tom instead crouched down at the end of the sofa and gently slipped her back over his shoulder and onto the soft cushions before collapsing in a sweating heap alongside her.

“Fuck! You weigh more than I thought!” Tom hissed somewhat tactlessly to no-one in particular as he unbuttoned the second and third buttons of his shirt and gasped for air.

Grace watched, mesmerised as he pulled the unbuttoned section of fabric away from his damp chest, clearing attempting to get some cooler airflow to his super-heated skin. He was muttering to himself obliviously as she toed off her heels and wriggled up onto her knees, pulling her legs up under herself as Tom continued to breathe heavily, her earlier drunken haze having cleared just enough to keep her upright with the sudden rush of adrenaline to her brain.

She licked her lips, transfixed as she watched him run one huge hand over his sweat soaked, chiselled features and as it reached his neck she made her move.

Feeling the seat cushion of the sofa dip, Tom was stunned as he watched, momentarily hypnotised as Grace’s body pounced, cat like – _albeit an inebriated, but still somehow sexy cat_ – at him, pressing her moist lips to his dry ones in a frantic kiss.

“Mmph!” Tom moaned in surprise, his head spinning with conflicting emotions as Grace tried to crawl onto his lap.

While he wanted nothing more than to be with Grace again, to continue kissing her and to feel her body once more against his own, if he’d learnt only one thing over the past month it was that he deserved much more than to just be another drunken one night stand to her.

So with a restraint he wasn’t aware he possessed, somehow Tom reluctantly pushed her away.

For a brief moment she sat looking at him, stunned, before she lurched again, this time grabbing at his shirt with her hands and attempting to rip it open.

Tom grabbed her arms robustly and forced her back off his lap and onto the sofa where she sat gasping, still looking at him like a piece of meat.

 _Jesus!_ Never mind a cat in heat, she was looking at him like a fucking predator!

The arousal that she’d initially invoked in Tom was well and truly wearing off leaving only annoyance in its wake and he looked at her in disgust. This wasn’t the way he wanted it to be between them. This wasn’t the Grace that he’d fallen in love with. This was just some drunken, lary woman he didn’t recognise!

Tom had opened his mouth ready to tell her as much when the first loud sob came from beside him, and he looked down to find her bent over, her head in her hands as she rocked back and forth wailing.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…O…O… Oh God! I’m so…sorry…I’m so, so sorry”

“Shhh” Tom sighed, his heart breaking to see her so distressed. He reached out and rubbed her back, trying to concentrate his brain on settling her down instead of thinking about how hot her skin felt against his palm as it seared through her thin cotton dress.

“I... i’m _really_ s…sorry Tom. _For everything_ …” she sobbed cryptically, gulping back another wave of tears.

“It’s okay…. Shhh, don’t cry. Please Grace” Tom pleaded, not wanting his big night to end like this.

Grace took another stuttering breath and awkwardly rose to her feet, unable to look Tom in the eye. She was so ashamed of herself, even though she wasn’t entirely sure she’d even been in control of any of her actions since they’d left the restaurant.

This was it. _Seriously this time!_ She was _never_ drinking again!

Not around Tom anyway…

With a loud sniffle she made her way quickly into the bathroom, splashing cold water over her tear stained cheeks in an attempt to sober up. Shakily dealing with her night-time ablutions, she remorsefully opened the door, thankful that it was still relatively dark in the lounge, the only light coming from the hallway.

“T…Tom…” she began, trying to hide the tremor in her voice as she attempted to apologise again.

“It’s okay. Let’s just pretend it never happened, Grace. Right? That’s what we do best, yeah?” Tom sighed, trying his level best to keep his voice upbeat in case he set her off crying again. It was her birthday tomorrow after all. Nobody should wake up feeling crap on their birthday!

“But I just wanted to-”

“Seriously” he interrupted “It’s fine, okay? Go get some sleep. I’ve put a jug of water and an empty glass on your bedside table. I hope you didn’t mind me going in there…” his voice trailed off, suddenly unsure of whether he’d done the right thing or once again overstepped their constantly shifting boundaries.

“I don’t deserve-” Grace’s voice was nothing more than a shaky whisper now and Tom couldn’t bear the thought of her crying again so he tried one final time to reassure her.

“Grace… _honestly_. Forget it ever happened”

She swiped in frustration at the tears starting to trickle down her cheeks again and moved as fast as her wretched body would allow, closing the door and sinking face down onto her bed, praying the duvet would muffle her sobs as she finished her sentence.

“ _You_ … I don’t… I don’t deserve you Tom… But... but I don’t want to forget either… I… I…can’t!”  

On the other side of the door, as Tom made himself as comfortable as he could ever really be in his makeshift bed _he_ couldn’t forget either.

_Not the taste of her lips._

_Or the softness of her skin._

_And certainly not the searing heat of her touch._

Wondering just how much of what happened was down to alcohol and how much could potentially be some sort of repressed feelings for him he finally fell into a troubled sleep wondering if he’d made a huge mistake making plans for tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! The next two chapters are almost finished and you won't want to miss them I promise... ;)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after Tom's opening night. Both Tom and Grace are in for some surprises...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV

 

Tom couldn’t sleep.

The thought of Grace lying in the room next door to him was driving him crazy. It hadn’t helped that last night had also been just as stiflingly hot up in the tiny attic flat as it had been in the theatre.

And after Grace’s frankly bizarre advances too?

 _Jesus!_ He deserved a fucking medal for _not_ succumbing to her abundant charms – _snoring and burping excepted!_

Groaning at the image of her heaving chest as she’d literally thrown herself at him on the very sofa he was lay on right now, his cock throbbed angrily, chastising him again for its lack of action.

It would have been _so_ easy to have just allowed her to continue kissing him, allowed her to rip his shirt open, let her touch him the way he'd dreamt about every night since that night together in the playhouse, and then let her settle that soaking pussy of hers onto his fat dick - _she’d told him it was much bigger than anything she’d ever had before, Tom reminded himself with an unaccustomed smugness_ – and fucked her into oblivion.

Tom bit his lip at the thought, almost drawing blood as he sighed to himself and shook his head, knowing she would most likely have kicked him in the balls and ripped his heart out again in the cold light of day _._

_Just like last time…_

Maybe he should have just manned up and used _her_ the way she obviously wanted to use him, but there was something about the way she’d acted after he’d stopped her that told him he’d been right to do so, even if it meant he’d spent most of the night with a raging hard-on _again_.

_She’d looked distraught._

And not just because he’d denied her some sort of ill-advised sexual encounter. She’d seemed to be… almost ashamed? Of what he couldn’t be certain. Was it because it was _him?_   Or was she just ashamed of her behaviour in general?

Tom had had to think over how _he’d_ felt about what had almost transpired. Yes, Grace had clearly been drunk. Not that it suddenly made it okay. But still, he’d already decided he wouldn’t mention it again if she didn’t.

Today was a new day. They’d started to turn a corner yesterday and before all her drunken antics they’d finally been getting on okay.

Almost like old times.

But still, the memory of her body pressed to his as he’d carried her up the stairs haunted his attempts to sleep. The fantasy of just throwing her down on her bed and reminding himself how good she felt around his cock was too much for his teenage hormones and every time he drifted off he saw her, writhing on his lap, licking her lips, sucking his tongue.

In his dreams she was like some siren, luring him away from his slumber with the promise of her touch, only to watch him crash and burn in a sticky mess as she disappeared with a derisory laugh.

Desperate to distract himself from the filthy images that were yet again starting to fill his head, Tom flicked on the reading lamp, rubbed his eyes and picked up the stack of magazines which Grace had dumped on the coffee table a few days ago.

He idly flicked through the first one, rolling his eyes at the ‘ ** _Last minute beach body tips_** ’ and shuddering at the ‘ ** _Can you get pregnant on your period?_** ’ articles and threw it back down. Searching the contents page of the next one, one title in particular caught his eye: ‘ _ **Ten aah-mazing steps to achieving (and giving him) the best orgasm’s of your lives**!_’ Tom’s eyes bulged, and with his interest piqued, he licked his lips and hastily flicked through Cosmopolitan, finding the article and began reading.

Tom had no idea how long he’d been sat avidly reading the six page Cosmo spread, but when he’d finished his head was brimming with all kinds of new information and his cock was throbbing, pressing insistently against his sleep shorts as if desperate to prove its mettle.

He dropped Cosmo back onto the coffee table and moved on to the next magazine, gently stroking himself absentmindedly through the soft cotton of his shorts. In New Woman he glanced over the dog-eared ‘ _ **10 minutes to a firmer bust**_ ’ page, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of Grace thinking she might actually need to do any of those exercises. Her tits were soft - _pert of course_ \- but still delectably soft when he cupped them…

_And licked them…_

Tom groaned and moved on to the next magazine. In Marie Claire he eagerly read ‘ ** _Sex – What’s Hot? What’s Not...?’_** – his eyebrows rising as high as his cock at the revelation that sometimes even the most reserved woman might like it a bit rough - and ‘ ** _Your body. What does he really think?_** ’ incredulous that any woman would think a man _wouldn’t_ like an arse he could grab hold of!

Sure, he didn’t have much experience, but he’d chatted with enough friends at school to know a nice round arse was a good thing!

_Grace’s arse was good…_

Grace’s arse was fucking perfect!

Fuck! Maybe he _should_ have let her have her wicked way with him last night after all!

_Stupid idiot!_

Tom licked his lips and shook his head at his own stupidity, his cock rock hard now as he remembered how _really_ good her arse felt in his hands.

_And her tits._

_Oh God! And her tight-_

The sound of Grace’s landline ringing interrupted his wriggling attempts to relieve some of the pressure inside his now tight shorts.

Tom glanced up at the clock, and realising it wasn't even 6am dove for the phone, praying it hadn’t woken Grace up unnecessarily. He needed to get his blatantly obvious dick back under control first. Not to mention sort his head out.

“Who the bloody hell rings at this time in the morning anyway?!” He muttered irritatedly to the empty room as he grabbed hold of the receiver.

“Hello?” he spoke quietly down the mouthpiece only to hear a fuzzy clicking sound followed by a loud, disapproving tut.

“ _Who is this?_ Where’s my daughter?” the brusque woman’s voice on the other end of the telephone probed irritably and Tom relaxed.

“Ehehehe… Hi Mrs Wallace-Stanley, It’s Tom… Erm… Tom Hiddleston” he smiled down the receiver.

“It’s _Doctor Stanley”_ the woman instantly corrected him huffily before continuing “Tom? _Tom Hiddleston?_   Wait… Hang on” she huffed impatiently.

Tom listened at the earpiece to the muffled sound of the start of an argument beginning to unfold in the background.

_“Bruce! You bloody idiot! You rang the Hiddleston’s!”_

_“No I didn’t!” the man barked crossly “I rang Grace’s Edinburgh number…”_

_“Well then why is that Hiddleston boy answering Grace’s phone?”_

_“Give the damn phone to me woman!”_

“Hello?” Tom recognised the stern yet perplexed voice of Grace’s father and subconsciously sat up straighter on the sofa.

“Hello Mr… erm…. _Doctor_ Wallace…” Tom stuttered, eager to avoid his previous faux pas “this _is_ Grace’s flat. I’m… I’m staying the week while I perform in a play up here… Grace very kindly offered to put me-”

“Flaming hell boy! Stop prattling on for the love of God! This call is costing me a bloody fortune! _Is. Grace. There?_ ” Doctor Wallace’s equally impatient manner now had Tom riled up but he tamped down his irritation and calmly replied “Yes. She’s still in bed I think. Bear with me…”

Ignoring the sound of Grace’s mother’s shrill voice berating her husband for God only knows what as it echoed down the phone line, Tom tapped gently on Grace’s bedroom door. When there was no answer he stood for a moment contemplating whether he should enter, but the loud bellow of “ _Hiddleston?_ ” in an impatient voice down his earhole made Tom’s decision for him.

He opened the door silently, his breath hitching as he found Grace lay on her side hugging a spare pillow tightly to her chest, her bare back and the top of the curve of her seemingly naked arse just peeking out from under the messy sheets. The dress she’d worn the night before lay in a heap at the foot of the bed along with a lacy pair of knickers and her heels and Tom found himself stifling a groan.

She appeared still to be fast asleep and Tom faced the dilemma of leaving her and incurring the wrath of her parents, or waking her and having to face her look of disgust as she realised he’d been stood leering over her. The evidence in his shorts of his arousal would be impossible for him to hide, let alone deny.

Tom shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, debating what to do as his eyes wandered treacherously back towards the soft curvature of her spine where it met her dimples of Venus. He was just about to turn and walk out of the room when a low moan passed Grace’s lips and he stopped in his tracks.

 _“Oh… Thomas!_ Am I _really_ a pretty topping girl?” Grace giggled coquettishly and Tom’s cock twitched at the realisation that she was dreaming about _him!_

But not only _about_ him.

Grace was dreaming about him addressing _her_ in the play!

_She’d noticed!_

He’d done it intentionally of course, but she hadn’t mentioned it at all last night. He’d assumed it hadn’t registered with her, half relieved not to get told off for drawing attention to his infatuation in public.

But not only had she noticed, now she was _dreaming_ about it!

Could this possibly mean what he hoped it meant?

He bit back his own moan as Grace wriggled even closer to the pillow, seemingly rubbing herself against it, but then, as was his fate, an even louder bellow came down the crackling phone line, startling him back to reality.

_“Hiddleston…! What the bloody hell is going on? Are you still there boy?”_

“Shit! Erm sorry Sir… shit! Sorry… Sorry Doctor” he stuttered loudly, completely flustered. It was loud enough for Grace, who had been arching her back in another low moan of pleasure, to suddenly sit bolt upright in shock and stare accusingly at him.

“Thomas! W... what… what are you doing in here?” her voice was gravelly from sleep as she clutched the pillow tightly to her naked body and blushed furiously.

Tom turned away, hiding his erection and spoke rapidly, his words a jumbled mess of stuttered apologies “I…I’m really sorry to… erm… interrupt you… it’s just…sorry… well… I have your mum and dad on the phone and… sorry… they wanted to talk to you”

He then proceeded to shuffle backwards until the backs of his knees hit the end of the bed and tossed the phone over his shoulder before quickly escaping.

Grace watched this peculiar dance of Tom’s with a mixture of horror and fascination. Horror at the sight of him stood over her as she’d woken from a particularly graphic dream with him as the protagonist. Fascination at his amusingly flustered attempt to hide his morning glory from her eyes with the most _bizarre_ [Moonwalk](https://youtu.be/b6pomaq30Gg?t=48s) she had ever witnessed! 

She unconsciously licked her lips before wearily lifting the phone to her ear.

“Hello”

"What's that soppy boy doing there with you Grace?"

Her mother's disapproving voice crackled down the line. Rolling her eyes, the receiver cradled against her neck, Grace stood and pulled her robe over her naked body, trying not to think about how long Tom had been stood at her doorway and just _how much_ he might have seen. She slumped back down onto the bed in embarrassment, again clutching the very same pillow she’d just been dreamily pretending was Tom.

What followed was the usual predictable and perfunctory five minute phone call. Her mother droned on about her research and how it was completely impossible to get any good research fellows these days, before passing the phone to her father who rambled on about weather patterns and various geological phenomena of which Grace was utterly clueless. When Grace was unable to think of anything intelligent enough to ask about plate tectonics her father signalled the conversation over – _if a one way barrage of facts and figures could ever truly be considered a conversation_ – by simply passing the phone back to her mother who muttered a rushed goodbye on account of some exciting new data which had clearly piqued her interest far more than her daughter.

As they said their goodbyes Grace could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks. 

They hadn't even bothered to wish her happy birthday! And here she was, thinking they might _actually_ have remembered for once, seeing as they’d called today of all days.

But no. As usual it was just a case of convenience. Bad weather had thwarted their attempt to leave to do what they loved far more than her – work - so they’d simply had nothing better to do with their time than to grudgingly ring their daughter, almost as if she was a tick box on their long list of things to do.  

Grace rose from her bed, shaking with emotion as she fumbled over her Discman and plugged in the speakers.

She _needed_ Eddie.

Eddie understood. Flicking to the [third](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pvyc7w-7-Oo) track she allowed the lyrics to wash over her:

_“The mother reads aloud child tries to understand it  
Tries to make her proud_

_The shades go down it's in her head  
Painted room, can't deny there's something wrong_

_Don't call me daughter not fit to_  
_The picture kept will remind me_  
_Don't call me daughter not fit to_  
_The picture kept will remind me”_

 

Of course she knew their [_real_ ](http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=2530)meaning. 

But for Grace the lyrics somehow also mirrored her own fraught relationship with her mother - hell, _both_ of her parents - who never once tried to hide their disappointment that she hadn’t been gifted – _or really even interested_ \- in science like themselves. The sad fact was, Grace knew she could come away with a First Class Honours in her English Language and Literature degree and they _still_ wouldn’t think it a valid representation of academia. She'd been a failure in their eyes even as a young child, and now at twenty it _still_ hurt.

_It hurt so fucking much._

Another loud sob escaped her quivering lips and the tears started in earnest once more as the track ended, changing to the heavier rock melody of Glorified G.

"Grace..?" Tom rapped hesitantly at her door, interrupting her misery. Grace sniffed and wiped angrily at her tear-stained face, turning down the music.

"Yes?" She croaked, still leaning heavily over the antique dresser.

Tom opened the door and peeked inside.

"Erm… breakfast is ready"

"What... breakfast?"  her voice registered confusion before she remembered her manners. 

“Erm... Thank you. I… erm… I’ll be out in a minute" her voice wavered again and Tom noticed.

"Oh Grace... are you okay? You must miss them terribly? I’m sorry they can’t be here…"

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, desperately wanting to pull her into a hug. But something about her demeanour warned him not to. And then there was last night. _And_ what he’d witnessed as he’d woken her…

_No. Touching her definitely wouldn’t be the best idea right now._

Grace didn't answer him though and his resolve wavered.

But then she stood upright on shaky legs and wiped impatiently at her tears, inhaling a deep breath as she crossed the small room towards him. Not speaking, Tom opened the door wider and stood to the side, gesturing for Grace to pass him.

Once she was through the door he spoke softly, from her side.

"Surprise!"

Grace stared at the table, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Her small pull down table was filled with all sorts of goodies. From eggs to sausages to mushrooms and tomatoes along with a pile of hot buttered toast. There was even a roughly chopped fruit salad.

She looked questioningly up at Tom, who was trying to hide his pride behind a sheepish grin.

"I would have cooked bacon as well but, well…ehehehe… I ate the last of it yesterday. Sorry" the sheepish grin immediately turned apologetic. 

"What...?" Grace began but Tom interrupted her “Happy birthday Grace!" He held out a poorly wrapped present and a card with her name written in his familiar scrawl.

Grace’s mouth hung open and she had to choke back more tears.

“What?   _Why…?_ Oh God… I’m so sorry for last night… I… I don’t deserve this Tom…” she faltered, tears springing afresh as she ran to the bathroom.

Tom’s perplexed face followed her as the door slammed behind her.

_Shit!_

_That didn’t go quite as planned!_

Tom rubbed his neck nervously, wondering if he’d overstepped the mark. It certainly didn’t bode well for what else he’d planned for her birthday…

Inside the bathroom, Grace sat on the side of the bath, head in hands, tears streaming down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth wondering: a) why she didn’t have a hangover; and b) what in the world she’d done to deserve such kindness from Tom after the complete and utter fool she’d made of herself last night.

She was mortified as she recalled ruining his opening night celebrations. As usual she’d thought of only herself. She’d acted like a jealous girlfriend in the restaurant when the reality was that it was _her_ who had consistently pushed Tom away! And then… _Oh fuck!_ Grace cringed as the memory of her pathetic attempt to seduce a clearly annoyed Tom on the sofa.

And yet he’d _still_ gone out of his way to make her breakfast. _And_ bought her a present!

And what was she doing?

_Acting like a fucking child, hiding in the bathroom!_

It dawned on her that Tom had remembered it was her birthday, when her own parents had not and with a deep breath, she realised she had a duty to thank Tom for his kindness and compassion. 

She wouldn’t let her useless parents, or her own self-loathing, ruin the thoughtfulness of Tom’s act.

_She might not deserve him, but at the very least she could be gracious to him._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold onto your wine glasses ladies, 'cos there's two more chapters on their way tonight... <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!” Sir Walter Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV

 

Grace opened the door slowly and walked shyly back over to the table as Tom watched on nervously.

“I’m sorry about that” she mumbled, unable to look him in the eye “That was… well it was inexcusably rude of me! This... this all looks _wonderful!_ Thank you Tom” Grace blushed, motioning towards the spread of food and picked up a slice of toast, placing it on her plate in a gesture of acquiescence.

Tom’s face relaxed and he pulled out a chair for her, gesticulating with one arm “Mi’lady”

Grace frowned but said nothing as she sat herself down on the offered seat. After everything she’d put Tom through, up to and including last night, she would bite her tongue at Tom’s over the top gentlemany behaviour.

“Tea or coffee?” he asked, holding up her favourite mug.

“Oh God coffee please!” she began to relax as Tom nodded knowingly but still didn’t say anything about last night. He prepared two mugs of steaming coffee and placed them down on the table before sitting himself down opposite her and smiling as he started to pile food onto his plate.

With some of the initial awkwardness gone, Grace’s shoulders relaxed and she too filled her plate. They ate in silence, save for the occasional compliment from Grace about Tom’s cooking. While it might have been a simple cooked breakfast, everything was still cooked just right, and perhaps more surprisingly, despite her running off into the bathroom it was also somehow still hot. That in itself was quite an accomplishment in her ridiculously small kitchen!

“So…” Grace smiled at Tom, feeling more and more comfortable with him as time passed “where have you been hiding your culinary skills Thomas?” She winked at him teasingly and Tom raised one eyebrow before shrugging his shoulders and grinning back at her.

“I learnt everything I know from my mum… everything. She’s an incredible woman” he replied honestly and Grace heard the pride in his voice. She knew he worshipped that woman – _as did she_ – but to hear him say it so openly and without any hint of irony or embarrassment made her cold heart thaw just that little bit more.

“She is indeed Tom. And she taught you well” she replied in barely more than a whisper, feeling her traitorous cheeks starting to bloom with colour for some unknown reason.

A spark of nervous energy spread throughout her body as Tom leant forward and looked her straight in the eye. Grace crossed her arms self-consciously across her chest, praying that Tom hadn’t spotted her bare nipples hardening under her tightly fastened cotton robe in response to his gaze.

There was an almost palpable undercurrent of sexual tension in the air until Tom’s quietly assured voice broke through.

“You still need to open your gift” he broke into an excited smile, before stretching behind him.

When he leant back on his chair and twisted to grab her present from behind him on the worktop, his lean back muscles stretched deliciously under the thin sleep vest he was wearing and she had to bite back a moan, remembering how good it had felt to dig her nails into them.

Biting her lip, she prayed her eyes did not betray her lewd memories as Tom suddenly turned back towards her, present and card in one large outstretched hand.

“Here…” Tom’s voice was suddenly tentative, unsure as he continued “I hope you like it”

Grace took the parcel wordlessly from him, her heart beating a little faster as her sweaty fingers touched Tom’s warm ones. With shaking hands, she unwrapped the gift, her eyebrows raising in surprise and then confusion as she turned the book over, reading the title and then looking up at Tom with barely disguised incomprehension.

“Erm… Thank you..?”

Unable to mask her baffled tone from Tom, Grace cringed.

_God she sounded so fucking ungrateful!_

But to Tom’s credit, if he was offended he didn’t show any sign, instead simply chuckling, his blue eyes gleaming in amusement.

"You have no idea why, do you?"

She squinted again at the cover, wracking her brain, trying to think of any conversation they'd shared about the prolific Scottish writer. When nothing was forthcoming she sighed and looked apologetically back at Tom.

"Oh God! I’m sorry, is it that obvious?" Grace frowned, worrying that she’d offended him again.

_She felt terrible!_

Regardless of the unknown reasoning behind Tom’s buying her a book of Sir Walter Scott’s poetry, lay the simple fact that even after all her unkind words last month he’d still thought enough of her to buy her a present. And perhaps even more telling was the realisation that in spite of her ridiculous antics last night he'd still actually _given_ it to her.

_And made her breakfast!_

Tom chuckled again, making her brain jolt back to reality.

“Ta-Da! I’m taking you out for the day!”

When Grace’s eyebrows shot to her forehead and she started stuttering excuses he silenced her with an outstretched hand.

“Shhh. It’s all arranged. And no, before you ask I’m not telling you where. It's another surprise!" He smirked as he pulled himself upright "Right. I'm going for a quick shower. Then you need to get washed and dressed too because it’s about an hour or so drive away and we should leave soon so we miss most of the traffic…"

"But-"

"And before you say anything I'm not taking no for an answer. _Okay?_ It's your birthday. And I'm going to make sure you have a great one!"

With that, Tom cleared the rest of the dishes away into the sink and strolled over to his pile of clothes, selecting a T-shirt, shorts and underwear before heading into the bathroom, whistling with an unexpected confidence as he shut the door behind him.

Grace stood, book in hand, utterly dumbfounded.

_What the hell had just happened? And where had this assertive Tom suddenly materialised from?_

She didn't have time to dwell on it too long as Tom shouted cryptically through the door to her still motionless body "It's actually a good thing you got that early morning phone call! It'll give us much more time to explore when we get there... but you should still go and get your clothes ready Grace"

_Christ! Was he telepathic now as well?  How did he know she was still stood there?_

Thinking of a cunning way to extract information about Tom’s plans she shouted back "But I don't even know where I'm going? How can I pick out clothes?"

"Wear whatever you want, I promise I'm not taking you anywhere crazy. My only advice would be to wear something comfortable, especially on your feet. Oh and dress to keep cool. The weather forecast said this heatwave is set to continue"

Then Grace heard the shower turn on and Tom started to hum a song she didn't recognise before he suddenly stopped and the door opened just enough for him to peek his head out.

“Oh, and I assumed you wouldn’t mind me driving your car? I have insurance...” his newly acquired confident demeanour waivered for a millisecond before that kilowatt smile returned and Grace couldn’t help but to laugh at his audacity.

“That’s a bit presumptuous don’t you think? Do I even have any choice in the matter?”

Tom licked his lips as he pretended to think this over before biting down on his tongue and breaking out in another grin “No… No you don’t! _You_ can’t drive. For one, you don’t know where we’re going… and for two, you’re probably still over the limit! Now go and sort your things out! I’ll only be five minutes”

Tom gave her a knowing nod, and a low chuckle of satisfaction at her shocked face before once again closing the door.

With a frustrated sigh she did as she’d been told and went to her room.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed Grace opened the book Tom had bought her, allowing it to fall open to [Lochinvar](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/52300), which had been bookmarked by a pale blue ribbon. As she read she smiled to herself at the beauty of the prose and made a vow to read some more before bed. 

Returning to more pressing matters, she carefully chose her outfit. Keeping in mind Tom’s cryptic description, she pulled out a lightweight blue cotton skirt that finished just above her knees, a cream halter-neck vest top and her baby blue halter-neck bikini top to wear underneath - just in case they went somewhere they could sunbathe - and laid them out on her untidy bed.

Grace looked down at the crumpled pile of sheets on her bed, trying not to think about _why_ they were so dishevelled.

She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to strip her bed, the idea of slipping into silky, soft clean sheets tonight with her freshly shaven legs one she relished. It was after all one of those vastly underrated - yet overwhelmingly satisfying – simple pleasures in life.

And one which was pretty high up on her list of favourite things.

Possibly only beaten by the feeling of Tom slipping that monster cock inside her silky soft walls.

_Oh!_

Grace bit her lip to stifle her groan, unable to fight away the memory of how his thick girth had stretched her far more than _any_ of the vibrators she’d ever used. Being the frustrated girlfriend of a handsome and sexy man who quite simply refused to have sex with her - in hindsight not having a dick _might_  have explained that - Grace had resorted to Ann Summers for her orgasms. But she hadn’t been lying when she’d told Tom his cock was much bigger than she was used to.

While she had been a virgin in the official sense, she was no stranger to penetration. Grace had tried several alternatives, finally settling on a purple glittery one that she’d found dauntingly large at first. That is, until she'd been introduced to that beast in Tom’s trousers.

She wriggled uncomfortably at the memory, unable to deny the throbbing between her thighs as she remembered how tightly her body had gripped his. If only he’d known how to make her come, her first time would have actually been perfect.

With a sigh she bundled up the bedding, but giggled to herself as she looked back down at her clothes and compared them with Tom’s wardrobe. She did at least now understand why he wore such baggy jeans and shorts!

As if, once again that frustrating young man was telepathic, he wrapped loudly on Grace’s door, making her jump.

“Showers free!”

Opening the door she had to stifle another giggle as her eyes settled on Tom bedecked in a pair of baggy cargo shorts.

Ignoring his perplexed “What?” she brushed past him with her pile of bedding, filled the washing machine, before grabbing her clothes and whistling brightly to herself as she headed into the shower.

_What’s good for the goose and all that…_

*

Twenty minutes later they were stood in front of Grace’s car as Tom fiddled with the seat, trying to make more room for his ridiculously long legs in the cramped space. Grace bit back a giggle as he muttered something about stupid little cars but they were soon on their way.

Grace pestered Tom over and over again to tell her where they were going, but he was steadfast, refusing to tell her anything, other than that he had a feeling she would enjoy it and reiterating it was a surprise.

She huffed at that, causing Tom to frown at her.

“What?” he questioned, turning off one busy road onto another. Grace read the road signs, hoping for some hint as to their destination but she was still clueless, the sad truth being that she rarely left the centre of Edinburgh while she was studying.

“I don’t like surprises Thomas!” she said petulantly, crossing her arms across her chest in an exaggerated show of frustration.

"Oh really?" Tom guffawed.

Grace looked at him pointedly "Really!"

" _Really?_  Are you sure about that Grace?" he teased, amused by her look of incomprehension "Because you might not like _being_  surprised but you don't seem to have a problem surprising _me_.. _!"_

"Tom!" she warned, her voice beginning to waiver "Please don't. We've been over that. It... It was..." her voice faltered and Tom tentatively patted her knee, relieved when she didn't flinch and pull away.

"I'm sorry. I'm just teasing..." Tom winked at her, internally giddy at how easily they seemed able to circumnavigate what had previously passed between them.

_It boded well for the rest of the day._

Deciding it best to change the subject to something less problematic, Grace suggested they turn on the radio.

They drove in silence for some time, occasionally humming along to a favourite tune. But when Tom’s eyes kept flicking across to Grace as he sang along to [Secret Smile](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kryV3E4QKGk) she couldn’t help but to squirm in her seat.

“Knock it off Tom” she warned, wondering if he knew the true meaning of the lyrics.

Tom just chuckled to himself and continued driving. God he was being infuriating today! Grace decided to play him at his own game and see how far she could push him by flicking through the channels. The further out of Edinburgh they drove the more the stations crackled and Tom’s patience finally broke.

“Hey! What was wrong with that channel?” he pouted.

“Oh nothing I guess… if you like that sort of thing. But it’s my birthday and I should get to choose what we listen to, and i’m in the mood for some rock… ooh, maybe even some Pearl Jam!”

She smirked as Tom visibly bristled.

“You really like them don’t you?” he muttered, trying to force his voice to stay even as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel but he couldn’t completely hide the jealousy in his voice as he continued “I just don’t get it. Their songs are so fucking depressing!”

She narrowed her eyes at Tom, who caught the look out of the corner of his vision but said nothing.

Grace was quiet for a moment, seemingly hesitating before she finally sighed. “Don’t you see? That’s exactly _why_ I love them Tom! They make _my_ crappy life seem a tiny bit more bearable. And I really do relate to some of their songs…” her voice broke off, contemplating how much she’d inadvertently revealed before she shook her head and laughed “Anyway. You’re just fucking jealous I like Ed!”

“No I’m not!” Tom spat out indignantly, but they both heard the lie although neither acknowledged it.

They continued to drive a few more miles and then out of the blue Tom spoke tentatively, barely hiding the sadness in his voice “What’s so crappy about your life Grace?”

She sighed and sniffed, rubbing her sweaty palm over the hem of her skirt. How had she managed to drag what had the potential to have been a fun day so quickly under her shroud of misery?

“Do you really want to know?” she muttered, hoping that Tom would say no. When he looked over to her and nodded she sighed, feeling the familiar painful sting of tears threatening to fall.

“They never wanted me you know?” she sniffled “My mum told me once. Of course she didn’t say those exact words but trust me when I say it was what she meant”

“Why? What exactly _did_ she say?”

“She told me I was an accident…”

“But that doesn’t mean anything Grace!” Tom tried to reassure her “lots of people have unplanned pregnancies. It doesn’t mean they don’t _want_ their child though… and it certainly doesn’t mean they don’t _love_ them!” His voice trailed off, feeling somehow weird in defending the cold, absentee parents he knew Grace’s parents to be.

“No Tom. You don’t understand! She told me I was an accident and that when she found out it was too late to do anything about it…” Grace gulped back a sob “Oh but here’s the best bit… _then_ she blamed _me_ for her losing out on some huge research grant because I had the fucking audacity to make my appearance in the world three weeks early!”

Tom was speechless.

“So yeah… _Trust_ me Tom. When I say they didn’t want me, it’s because they told me as much! Oh of course they _tried_ to do the right thing. At least at first… They sent me to all the right prep schools, made me attend all sorts of extra-curricular science activities. But when it became _glaringly_ apparent that I neither shared any interest nor aptitude for their fields, well I was forgotten about! That’s when I met your family. I hadn’t even seen my own parents that year...”

“Oh Grace…” Tom choked back his own tears, his heart breaking for her. He was also raging inside, wishing he’d known this before the phone call that morning. By God he would have told them how worthless they were and how privileged they should feel to even _know_ such a beautiful, intelligent and articulate woman, because _they_ had played no fucking part in it! It also made what his dad had said the night before all the more understandable. Clearly his parents knew. Tom wondered if his sisters did as well.

His hand slid back onto her knee and this time he left it there, trying to think of something, _anything_ that would acknowledge how honoured he felt that she had shared something so painfully honest with him.

Unfortunately for Tom, he couldn’t think of a single damn word. Everything sounded so trite in his head. So he kept his mouth shut and carried on driving.

“Yeah…” Grace sniffed again, finally breaking through the silence almost apologetically “So… sometimes I listen to Pearl Jam, and Eddie reminds me I’m not alone, y’know? Other people have crappy lives too”

“Your life is only as crappy as you allow it to be though…” he trailed off, hoping he hadn’t offended her with his seemingly flippant remark. Needing to somehow validate it he spoke again “You know, I’ve had some pretty crappy times too. I mean, God! Not _anywhere_ near as bad as you Grace, I get that! But I was devastated when my dad left…”

Grace heard the pain as Tom’s voice broke with emotion and brushed her hot palm over his hand which was still resting gently on her knee “I know you were…” she revealed “I was away at school with Sarah and she was in a bad way. Emma was still at home with your mum so I didn’t worry quite so much about her...” as if revealing too much Grace stopped. But when she saw a tear slip down Tom’s cheek she had to tell him.

“But I worried about _you_ Tom. You were suddenly thrust into the role of being the man of the house. The protector. That must have been incredibly hard at such a young age?”

“To be honest, I didn’t even think about that. I’d always swore I’d do anything for the women in my life…” he paused deliberately, daring to glance across at Grace who was watching him with a curious gaze “nothing about that changed by dad leaving. But I _was_ really quite upset, and I think very sad and vulnerable and angry” he sniffed “I think that’s why acting appealed so much to me, y’know? It became a way of expelling those feelings in a safe place. The rest of the time I learnt to be the class clown.  I was scared someone would see how much I was hurting and pick on me…” his voice trailed off again and Grace choked out a whisper “Oh Tom…!”

He suddenly squeezed Grace’s knee and laughed nervously “Ehehehe, Christ! Sorry! I hadn’t planned today to turn into such a fucking navel-gazing exercise! I’m sorry!”  

He shook his head, as if casting off his sadness and Grace took her own deep cleansing breath. It was strange. In all the time they’d known one another, they’d never once spoken about such personal things, yet in doing so they each had a new found respect for the other and a small weight also seemed to have lifted from their respective shoulders.

Breaking through the tension and turning the conversation to something more light-hearted Grace attempted to find out their destination again, telling Tom she needed to use the bathroom.

“Can you wait another five minutes or so…” he asked uncertainly.

“Ooh so we’re nearly there are we?” she grinned as she started searching for some kind of road sign.

“Oh you devious minx!” he growled playfully and Grace couldn’t help the flutter in her tummy as he teasingly slapped her knee in reprimand.

She tried to hide the small sigh of disappointment when his hand didn’t return to her knee, instead moving to run his fingers through his blond curls before gripping the steering wheel once more.

Grace was transfixed by this action. So transfixed in fact that she completely missed the sign as they pulled into the country estate.  

“We’re here!” Tom announced proudly, switching off the engine and getting out of the car. Before Grace had time to open her door Tom was there, opening it for her with an over the top bow.

“Mi’lady”

“Seriously Tom! Cut that out okay?” she rolled her eyes but laughed as she climbed out of the car and stretched her legs. She was none the wiser as to where they were, but wherever it was, it was certainly breath-taking!

Tom closed her door and jogged around to the boot of the car, pulling out his rucksack and slinging it over one shoulder before catching up with Grace as she made her way slowly up towards a grand looking house.

“So…?”

“Ehehehe I knew you wouldn’t guess! This, my dear Grace is [Abbotsford House](http://www.scottsabbotsford.co.uk/), the home of Sir Walter Scott!” he announced with a flourish of his hands.

“Aha! Now I get it!” Grace laughed along with Tom and as they climbed the steps leading into the house she wondered exactly how long he’d been planning this. While she wasn’t overly familiar with Scott’s works, Tom knew she was a literature buff and for him to have arranged something so thoughtful made her heart flutter.

It thumped even harder as he told her about the picnic he’d also brought for them both and some of the highlights of the estate. They took a tour of the house, marvelling at its grandeur, then strolled through the wonderfully fragrant gardens, pausing to look up at the ‘Juliette’ balcony sited at Scott’s bedroom window before finding a quiet clearing down by the River Tweed where Tom pulled out a picnic blanket from his rucksack and they sat down to eat their lunch, watching the ducks swim by.

With stomach’s full of sandwiches and sausage rolls he pulled out his final surprise. Tom had packed a small chocolate birthday cake. Unfortunately it had begun to melt in the fierce sun, and as he opened up the box he let out an audible groan of despair as he looked down into the small cardboard box at the molten mess.

“What’s the matter?” Grace rolled onto her belly and squinted up at Tom, as he frowned down at the inanimate object.

He let out a loud sigh “We’ve had a cake-tastrophy!”

Grace snorted with laughter, immediately covering her mouth as she saw Tom’s eyebrows knit together. Crawling up onto her knees she peeked into the box. Before Tom could stop her, Grace had stuck her finger into the melted ganache and scooped up a large dollop, raising it to her lips and sucking her finger clean.

“Oh God! It still tastes delicious!” she moaned in delight.

“But I wanted it to be perfect…” Tom whined, closing his eyes and shaking his head glumly. In his pre-occupied state he completely missed Grace scooping up another dollop of the creamy chocolate topping.

“Shut up and taste it” she thrust her finger towards his mouth and Tom’s eyes widened as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ehehe…  I don’t…” he stuttered, unsure if he dared himself to, but when she shrugged her shoulders and started to move her hand back towards her mouth he grabbed her wrist and pulled it back to his own.

A frisson of electricity passed between the pair as Tom’s lips parted and pulled Grace’s chocolate coated finger into its wet warmth.

Their eyes connected and Tom immediately moaned and swirled his tongue around her digit causing Grace to gulp, her own mouth suddenly dry as a desert as she watched him gently suck it clean. She had to bite her lip to stop her own moan escaping as he finally released her finger and slowly licked an errant blob of ganache from his lips.

For a moment neither spoke but then Tom coughed, seemingly breaking free from his trance and nodded slowly. Grace released a stuttering breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding as he practically purred “You were right… It _does_ taste delicious.”

He winked at her then and as if taunting her, he again licked his lips.

“But… I’d better box this back up for later. We don’t want things to get messy, do we…?”

Even though he looked down at the picnic blanket, Grace caught the slight growl in his voice and subconsciously clenched her thighs. But no sooner had the fleetingly erotic moment begun, it ended just as abruptly as Tom suddenly turned his gaze towards a steep grassy hill behind them and dared Grace to roll down it.

“Are you bloody crazy?” she laughed incredulously, still reeling from the sudden change in topic “I’m not getting into a game of dare with you Thomas! I’ll be sick! I bet you could do it though…!” she finally teased back “Just try not to land in the River! If you do you’ll be walking home!”

“Oh charming! I arrange this lovely day trip for your birthday and you threaten to ditch me if I get even a little bit of water in your car?” Tom grumbled but his eyes twinkled with light-hearted humour.

Soon they were back to laughing and joking, the earlier sexual tension seemingly fading away as they reminisced about old times back in the Hiddleston’s garden with Grace revealing to Tom that her first memory of him was that of him running around like a loon before rolling down his lawn and colliding with the fence below her tree.

“I was a clumsy sod” he chuckled, lying on his back and soaking up the sun’s rays. Grace pulled off her vest top and lay on her back alongside him, doing the same. They fell into a comfortable silence, taking some time just to enjoy the peaceful solitude under the warm cocoon of the sun.

Some time passed and Grace exhaled deeply, letting out a low sigh of pleasure as a slight breeze blew across her hot skin. In that moment of quiet contemplation she found herself replaying the day and sighed again at how perfect it had been so far. Even the spoiled cake had been a moment she would treasure, not least because of the hungry way in which Tom had looked at her as he’d sucked her finger clean. She’d known she was poking the bear when she’d offered her finger to him. The only thing she was uncertain of was whether she had been truly prepared for what might have come next.

As it was, _nothing_ had happened. And for some strange reason that frustrated the hell out of her.

Before the incident with the cake Tom had been hanging on her every word, his eyes flicking between her lips and her eyes, only rarely distracted when she waved her hand to emphasise a point.

Grace was beginning to realise that the longer she spent with Tom, the less reasons she could think of as to why she was holding back from him. The dam had been breached last night as she’d watched him perform so masterfully on stage and as they lay eating the simple yet surprisingly tasty picnic that Tom had put together, the only niggle that kept coming back to her was that he’d pushed her away last night.

 _Maybe he’d decided they were better off just as friends_.

Her heart sank at that prospect and she was suddenly eager to find out one way or another.

“Hey Tom…” she started, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible “You were amazing last night!”

“Oh? Eh… thank you” Tom rolled onto his side and looked at Grace. She lay on her back, eyes closed with rosy pink cheeks. Whether the colour in her cheeks was from the sun or what had transpired between them earlier he couldn’t be certain but her sudden praise still made him grin.

“No. Seriously Tom. You… You were….” She took a deep breath, unaware that he was watching her “you’re performance was exhilarating! I didn’t know you had it in you to be so… erm, so _authoritative!_ It was quite a shock actually. You’re normally so nice...” She bit down on her lip and giggled.

Tom quirked his eyebrow at this, remembering the Marie Claire article, and stored that little nugget of information away before carefully responding “Well… it’s called acting Grace!” with a low chuckle.

“I know, I know!” she laughed along with him.

“But don't you see? The contrast you showed between that forceful side of Stanhope and his vulnerability… well. It was so moving to see. You made me cry because the vulnerable Stanhope was much more like the Tom we all know and lov-”

Grace suddenly stopped but Tom didn’t miss her flustered cough nor the pink heat that rose up her neck as she opened her eyes and glanced across at him, and his stomach began to do somersaults.

Did she mean it the way he _wanted_ her to mean it? Could last night’s strange behaviour have just been her repressed feelings finally coming out?

_Oh fuck! If it was he’d royally fucked up his own response, hadn’t he?_

It actually crossed Tom’s mind to just lean over, kiss her and find out, but he didn't dare to do anything to upset the calm equilibrium that had finally settled between the two of them. 

So, instead he sat up, drinking deeply from his bottle of lemonade, his eyes never leaving hers as she continued to squirm under his gaze.

Whatever _was_ going on, there had been an inexplicable shift and it excited him.

He finished the bottle of lemonade and flopped back down alongside her on his side, leaning his head on one elbow as he watched her breath in and out. At first it was completely innocent, Tom smiling as his eyes flickered up to her now closed ones, marvelling at how long her lashes were, then down to her rosebud pink parted lips as they sucked in air. But as his gaze lowered to her chest he couldn’t help but to stare at her smooth golden skin and the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as they pressed against the constraints of her bikini top.

“Oy! It’s rude to stare at a woman’s boobs!”

Tom jumped and looked away guiltily but Grace’s voice was filled with laughter and she shoved him playfully, causing him to fall backwards with a groan.

He wrinkled his nose and blushed but chuckled unashamedly.

“I can’t help it that you’ve got such great tits!” He knew he was probably seriously pushing his luck, but he no longer cared. Tom licked his lips and bit down on his tongue, preparing for the inevitable smack as she hit him again. Or started yelling at him.

When a minute or so of silence had passed and he was _still_ lay, comfortable under the heat of the sun instead of slapped across the face, Tom blinked his eyes open and turned his head, only to find Grace staring at _him_.

More precisely at his crotch!

Raising his eyebrows in mock indignation followed by a knowing smirk, Tom rolled back onto his side and tapped his fingers on his thigh.

“Like something you see?” he jokingly asked.

Grace huffed but then a small smile crept across her lips and she batted her eyelashes in what Tom swore was almost a flirtatious manner, before teasingly whispering “may…be…” in a sing song voice, her eyes flicking back down to where Tom’s weathervane of arousal was well and truly pointing North.

Tom stuttered for a second, knowing this was probably his best opportunity to do something, when - such as seemed to be his perpetual stinking rotten luck - the alarm on his watch began beeping incessantly, signalling to him that it was time to head back to Edinburgh.

If it hadn’t been for his commitment to the play, Tom would have thrown caution to the wind and pinned Grace to the lawn and found out _exactly_ what she liked about his now rock hard cock, but as it was, he couldn’t predict the traffic and he was nothing if not reliable, another thing his mother had instilled in him from an early age.

So with a huge groan of frustration he began gathering up their rubbish and signalling to Grace that it was time to leave.

If Grace was as disappointed as he was, she hid it well, smiling cheerfully as she walked alongside him, chattering about how grateful she was and thanking him again for organising such a lovely day out.

Tom, meanwhile, held the rubbish bag grumpily in front of his crotch, praying no-one noticed what he was trying to hide, and by the time they had reached the car park he was thankfully able to toss the bag in the bin and walk with what little remained of his dignity.

When they reached the car Tom opened the boot and threw his rucksack crossly inside - _forgetting all about the already worse for wear chocolate cake_ \- then leant his head against the hot metal and took a few deep breathes as he struggled to get himself back under control.

When he returned to the front, Grace was already in the driver’s seat assuring him she was happy to drive back, suggesting he might want to rest before his show tonight.

With another sigh he walked around to the passenger side, wondering if he'd just missed his chance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saddle up ladies 'cos you're in for a bumpy ride in the next chapter...


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace and Tom take a diverting drive home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just read the tags...okay? ;)
> 
> Mostly Grace's POV until near the end.

 

They climbed into the car and began the drive back to Grace’s flat. Grace, having assured Tom that she was now okay to drive, got behind the wheel as Tom did his best to get comfortable in the passenger seat.

Though she hated to admit it, she’d had a wonderful day with Tom. And the unexpectedly easy flirting between them both had been more than a pleasant surprise.

At first she tried to make light conversation about their day, again thanking him for his thoughtful gesture. But as it became clear that Tom was preoccupied with his own thoughts they slipped into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Grace could feel the air tinged with nervous electricity and when Tom slid his hand onto her bare knee and gently squeezed it, asking her if she’d had a nice birthday so far, she slammed her foot down onto the brake in surprise.

“Shit! Sorry…” she mumbled, checking her rear view mirror, thankful that there were no cars close behind them.

“No. I’m sorry Grace. I didn’t mean to startle you!” Tom sighed and started to move his hand away.

Grace took one hand off the steering wheel and closed her fingers briefly over Tom’s moving hand, securing it back in place on her knee with a reassuring pat.

Tom’s face lit up at this rare moment of validation from Grace.

“Let’s have some music eh?” he grinned and she nodded in agreement.

He began to twiddle with the knobs on Grace’s car stereo, trying to find a radio station but there was barely any signal and he sighed with annoyance.

“We’re still too far out to get a decent signal. Try the CD player. I think there’s probably one still in there…If you’re lucky it might even be Pearl Jam!” Grace laughed, glimpsing Tom’s irritated face.

Tom pressed a couple of buttons and then the closing bars of [This is how we do it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hiUuL5uTKc) filled the cramped space. He quirked an eyebrow at Grace and laughed.

“What?” Grace glanced at him, frowning.

_What the hell was the matter with him now?_

“‘Miss Rock-Chick-I-Love-Eddie-Vedder’ has _R &B_ in her car…? Oooh, your dirty little secret’s finally out Grace!” he taunted, grinning from ear to ear as if he’d just discovered her stealing from the cookie jar.

“And?” Grace raised her eyebrows and huffed defensively “I like all sorts of music! Not just rock!”

“Hey I wasn’t having a go!” Tom patted her knee reassuringly as Brownstone’s [If You Love Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91NExZP5dZI) began to play. “I know you like different stuff. Bloody hell, you and Sarah had a seriously unhealthy ABBA obsession growing up!”

Grace giggled “We still do…”

“It’s just, well…I didn’t know _this_ about you Grace… And… well… I like learning new stuff. I find it…” he leaned over and whispered “ _exhilarating…_ ” cryptically in her ear, making her shiver, before very tenderly brushing his lips against her bare shoulder and leaning back in his seat as if it was the most natural thing to do.

As they continued to drive and Tom sang along to the loaded lyrics, Grace began to feel more and more flustered.

His hand - which she suddenly realised was still resting lightly on her knee - began to wander ever so slightly higher, resting just above her knee cap and when the song reached its crescendo Tom squeezed it, his long digits tickling the underside of her thigh as his thumb stroked in small circles.

Grace was torn between wanting to say something and holding back to see what he did next. Everything had changed so fast between them up here in Edinburgh, and especially after the disastrous way she’d left things back home she was nervous of saying or doing the wrong thing again. Because the truth was, she _did_ have feelings for Tom.

Strong feelings.

But she was also scared.

_Everyone that she loved left her._

Tom would be no different. He was more than likely going to Cambridge next month. She would be up here in Edinburgh, completely alone again. Could she even dare hope to dream that they could survive that kind of distance? And for at least another two years? Both of their degrees were intense. And then there was Tom’s acting. He’d _already_ been contacted to audition for a small project just on the back of the first half of last night’s opening performance apparently!

_When would they ever see one another?_

She bit her lip, trying to see how it could possibly work between them.

“Penny for them…?” Tom’s silky voice startled her and she felt her cheeks begin to grow pink.

“Ugh nothing… sorry. I was miles away then” she mumbled, not able to voice the hopes and fears that were fighting one another inside her head.

She could feel his eyes on her and her cheeks began to burn brighter still as she realised the previous song had ended and Tom was now practically growling the lyrics of ['You’re Makin’ Me High’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wIgOL21S98o):

 _I'll always think of you_  
_Inside of my private thoughts_  
_I can imagine you_  
_Touching my private parts_  
_With just the thought of you_  
_I can't help but touch myself_  
_That's why I want you so bad_  
_Just one night of_  
_Moonlights, with you there beside me_  
_All night, doin' it again and again_  
_You know I want you so bad_  
_Baby, baby, baby, baby_

Grace’s skin was covered in goosebumps as Tom’s large hand tentatively began to slide up her thigh, bunching up her skirt in the process. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as his long fingers grazed the lacy edge of her knickers teasingly before sliding back down towards her knee.

 _Oh dear God! What was he trying to do to her?_  

“Tom…!” she warned, embarrassed to hear more than a hint of disappointment in her voice at the loss of contact.

Tom hadn’t missed her almost pleading tone either and his hand once more began its ascent towards her forbidden treasure. His lithe fingers slowly stroked over her lace covered mound and Grace bit back a startled cry of pleasure.

Tom also groaned, no doubt from the flood of arousal he must surely have been able to feel soaking through Grace’s knickers at his touch.

“Oh God Grace! You’re so _wet_ … and it’s all for me, _isn’t it?!”_   Tom’s mouth was back on her shoulder, now kissing and nibbling at her feverish skin as his fingers continued to gently stroke her “Tell me it’s for me! _It is, isn’t it Grace?”_

 _“Yes!”_ Grace’s treacherous gasp made Tom growl and he trailed his hot, wet tongue up the side of Grace’s neck before suddenly whining in her ear “Oh Christ! I want to fuck you _so_ badly! And now I know _you_ want me too? Fuck I can’t wait! Is there nowhere we can just pull over?”

Grace’s eyebrows shot up in shock at Tom’s suggestion but she couldn’t deny the shameless moan that escaped her lips as he slipped his hand under the elastic of her knickers and finally plunged two fingers knuckle deep into her wet heat and began thrusting.

“Fuck!” she gasped, digging her nails into the steering wheel, wondering where in the hell _these_ skills had suddenly materialised from.

“Tom! We _can’t_ … Oh God! Tom… _Fuck_ … Tom! I’m driving! Wait… _Thomas!_ ”

His fingers stilled and she foolishly turned her head to look at him. Tom’s pupils were blown wide with unrestrained lust and his other hand was rubbing his impressive erection through the strained fabric of his shorts as he bit back his own moans.

That was the nail in the coffin of Grace’s attempt to think straight. All sensible thought evaporated and she put her foot down hard on the accelerator, causing them both to jerk back in surprise as she desperately searched for somewhere - _anywhere_ \- for them to turn off the road.

A few minutes passed, Tom’s fingers lying dormant yet still buried deep inside her, until finally Grace saw a turn off. She drove up the country lane, looking around for a deserted place to stop.

“There!” Tom pointed desperately to a secluded gravel track, surrounded by trees. Grace pulled up but as she switched off the engine she could feel her nerves rattling. What the hell was she doing? What if they got caught? It was broad daylight!

And really? Was she going to go down this path with Tom… _again_?

She opened her mouth to voice her misgivings but Tom silenced her with his lips, plunging his tongue deep inside her open mouth and making whatever doubts were in her head melt away. Grace groaned into his mouth as his fingers slowly began to work their magic again.

Reluctantly pulling away for air, Grace moaned loudly as the rough pad of Tom’s thumb started to rub at her engorged clit, slowly, teasingly, and she released her seatbelt, finding herself desperately trying to move closer. It was at this point that the reality of their confined situation truly hit her, perfectly demonstrated when she found herself hitting her head on the roof as she bucked up in her seat. There was no way she was going to be able to straddle Tom inside her [Cinquecento](http://www.automobile-catalog.com/car/1997/1457570/fiat_cinquecento_sporting.html)! His knees were already practically touching his chin as he leant across the gear knob just to touch her.

She groaned again, this time in frustration and Tom sensed the change in her demeanour. He too was assessing their positions, his face a picture of desperate contemplation.

“Get out of the car” he commanded.

Grace looked from his face down to her parted thighs, where he was already withdrawing his hand and moaned at the loss of contact.

“Grace… Get. Out. Of. The. Car… _Now!_ ” he growled impatiently and she found herself anxiously opening her door and stepping outside almost in a trance.

“Come here” Tom’s authoritative voice guided her towards the front of the car where he grabbed her hand, pulling her hard up against his lean body.

“Tell me you want this Grace…” he ground his erection against her belly and she whimpered “yes!”

“Then bend forward over the car” There was an urgency in Tom’s voice mirroring her own lustful desire and she did so unquestioningly, pressing her flushed cheek to the car bonnet.

“Ow fuck!” she hissed as the heated metal burned her delicate skin “Jesus that’s hot!”

“Here, use this baby” Tom’s voice quickly changed to one of concern and he hastily pulled off his T shirt, bundling it into a makeshift pillow and shoving it into her shaking hands.

When Grace’s body was settled back over the bonnet, breathing in Tom's scent on the soft cotton, he pulled up her skirt, exposing her ass. Tom licked his lips greedily and squeezed it appreciatively before slipping the same two fingers that had worked her into a frenzy inside the car back under her knickers and in between her soaking folds.

Grace moaned loudly, instinctively widening her stance, no longer caring about her surroundings. All she could concentrate on was Tom’s fingers as they dipped inside her before spreading her juices over her throbbing clit.

Her pussy clenched as he growled into her ear “You’d better hold on tight Grace because this is going to be hard and fast” and before she could protest, Tom was pulling her knickers to one side and plunging his thick length into her slick heat in one gloriously deep thrust as he continued to gently stroke her clit.

Grace immediately clenched in surprise at Tom’s newly discovered skilful touch and he let out his own guttural groan, his free hand pinioning her hips tightly against the car as he started to thrust slowly.

“Fuck… Grace… you feel so good! So… fucking… good… Ugh…So fucking tight…. Jesus!” he growled, his cock massaging her throbbing walls as he increased his speed.

Grace tried to roll her hips in time with Tom’s thrusts but he was having none of it, and he tightened his grip on her hip, hissing keenly in between thrusts “Don’t… fucking… move! I told you, _I_ … want to fuck… _you…_ and by God I… _am_ … going… to… fuck… you… but I’m close baby…”

Grace whimpered at his dominant tone and tightened her grip on the bonnet, clinging frantically to the gap closest to the windscreen for dear life. The hot metal scorched her arms but she didn’t care as she felt Tom’s cock begin to pound the ache in her pussy.   

Soon the still country air was filled with the sound of sweat soaked skin slapping against sweat soaked skin, the low hum of the stereo playing [Get Off](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAsgeSp2PjI) inside the car and accompanying their wanton moans as the afternoon sun beat down over their exposed bodies.

It was a matter of minutes before Grace felt her orgasm spreading rapidly throughout her entire body and she started to babble filthy words of encouragement to Tom, who was already on the verge of exploding.

“Oh God… Fuck… _yes_ … yes! Right there Tom…. Fuck me hard with that monster cock…. _Yes!_ Oh God… don’t stop… harder... fuck me harder… _Fill me up Thomas…!_  Fill me up with your thick cum!”

“Christ! Yes…! _Oh fuck yes!_ ” he growled, barely holding on as he felt Grace’s walls contract, signalling her orgasm and accompanied by a guttural scream. Tom rubbed furiously at her clit, causing Grace to clench even tighter and then suddenly she was coming again with an exhausted moan.

He grunted desperately in response as he too started to come undone, thrusting erratically into her vice like grip and filling the air with his own breathlessly profane exaltations.

“Yes! Take it… _take it all_. You love my cock pounding into you… don’t you, you dirty girl! _Admit it!_ ” and with a monumental roar Tom stilled, pumping his seed deep into Grace’s trembling body.

Tom nestled a sweat soaked cheek against one of Grace’s shoulder blades and she shuddered involuntarily but not unpleasantly at the contact. The pair fought for air after their voracious coupling, Grace recovering first as her arms began to cramp in their prone position.

“Ouch… ow!” she hissed and Tom immediately pulled away, fearing that he’d been crushing her once again “Oh shit, I’m sorry baby!” he apologised as his now limp dick slipped out from between Grace’s still quivering folds. She whimpered at the loss of contact but it was soon replaced by Tom’s comforting arms lifting her up so that she was perched on the edge of the car bonnet facing him.

Her head was still fuzzy with post-coital endorphins but as she gazed up into Tom’s blissed out crystalline blue eyes her heart raced even harder. Though she would never admit it to him, she knew she had _really_ fallen for Tom… hard. Her sore arms shook as she tentatively slipped them around Tom’s long neck and pulled him closer for a slow, languid kiss that left them both breathless once more.

Breaking for air - Grace’s teeth reluctantly releasing Tom’s bottom lip with an audible pop - they stared at one another searchingly. Tom’s hands slid up her thighs again, the right one remaining just at their apex while the left continued its journey over her hip and up to one bikini covered breast. He peeled back the fabric, revealing a taut pink nipple and his mouth descended on it, sucking and flicking it greedily with his tongue. Meanwhile his right hand moved to cup her spent and dripping pussy again.

Grace sighed with pleasure and released her grasp from Tom’s neck, leaning back against the bonnet, her back arching and her hand fumbling around anxiously in search of Tom’s cock.

She had just slipped her hand around his velvety soft length when a loud shout startled them both.

“Oy oy!”

Grace’s nipple popped out of Tom’s ravenous mouth as he turned his head and looked around frantically.

“Oh shit!” he cried out, pulling his hand away from Grace’s crotch as he spotted the group of teenagers stood at the end of the lane now wolf whistling at them.

Grace quickly lowered her skirt, as Tom desperately tugged up his boxers and shorts in one deft movement, hastily tucking his semi-hard cock safely back inside after straightening Grace’s bikini.

Once decent he turned towards the still heckling kids and yelled at them to get lost. When they didn’t move he started off down the lane.

“Tom just get in the bloody car!” Grace yelled, her cheeks now red both with a combination of arousal and embarrassment.

She climbed into the driver’s seat, searching around in the glove compartment for the pack of baby wipes she always kept there. Wiping one over the heated skin of her face she beeped her horn impatiently at Tom, who was still angrily staring down the group of kids. Grace started up the ignition and drove slowly until she was alongside him.

“Tom. Please… just get in!” she urged.

Grumbling to himself, he finally relented. They drove past the group, their ears burning to a cacophony of whooping and wolf whistles. Once back on the main road they drove in silence, neither one quite sure how to address what the hell had just happened between them.

Grace was the one to finally break the silence.

“There are some baby wipes in the glove compartment if you want to freshen up?” Her voice was soft - nervous even - as she glanced sideways towards Tom, immediately distracted by the glimpse of his bare chest and torso “Oh! And your T shirt is on the back seat if you want it…”

Tom smirked and wriggled in his seat so that he was half facing Grace, before finally answering her.

“Thanks but I’m good! It’s pretty hot in here don’t you think?” he licked his lips and just as Grace glanced again towards him, Tom opened his mouth and began sucking the two fingers that had only minutes earlier been knuckle deep inside her.

“Jesus Tom! Are you trying to kill us both?!” Grace moaned, clenching her thighs together as Tom made a show of licking their combined juices off his fingers.

Knowing that Tom was not only tasting her but himself also…

_Well, the lewdness of the act almost made Grace crash the car!_

She gripped the steering wheel, muttering to herself how she would make him pay for this, all the while desperately trying to shut out Tom’s teasing moans and groans before he finally relented and grabbed his shirt from the back seat and covered himself back up. It didn't however stop him from sniggering evilly to himself.

Finally they reached the centre of Edinburgh and after Grace parked up, she climbed out of the car and rolled her neck, one hand on the roof of the car as she attempted to release some of the pent up tension that had settled there during their eventful journey.

Tom stood, watching her over the bonnet of the car. He’d already grabbed the rucksack from the boot before Grace had even gotten out of her seat and now he was licking his lips as he watched Grace’s back arch – just like it had when he’d had her on the bonnet of the car - as she stretched out her muscles.

His poorly stifled moan of appreciation caught Grace’s attention and she shook her head at him, but there was an air of flirtation as she circled the car and started to walk towards the entrance to her flat.

_Was it his imagination or was she wiggling her hips at him?_

Not waiting to find out he practically ran at her, eliciting a squeal of surprise as he pinned her to the outer door, his hot mouth languidly kissing the back of her neck.

"Tom!" she hissed, not altogether convincingly "someone might see us!"

"Ehehehe" he laughed heartily "I think it's a little bit late to worry about that now, isn't it baby?"

Despite herself, Grace couldn't help but laugh too.

Who was she trying to kid? She wanted Tom again. It was all she’d been able to think about on the way back from their al fresco assignation... how his naked skin would feel on her own again.

With that final realisation she made her fateful decision.

Grace shoved her key in the door, startling Tom. She turned her head and winked up at him coquettishly and squealed "Race you to the top..." just as Tom lunged for her.

She began to run up the stairs but Tom’s long legs gave him an unfair advantage that Grace had stupidly not factored for.

Fortunately for Grace, Tom had not factored in just how awkward it was to run with a painfully hard dick either, and as he reached the fourth floor his lead began to ebb away.

By the sixth floor they were running alongside one another, panting for oxygen and giggling like idiots.

Grace finally retook the lead on the final set of stairs, and Tom’s hard on began to throb as he watched with fascination as her arse undulated ahead of him under her skirt as it swayed from side to side.

It was then he realised he didn't care if Grace won the race. He had  _already_ won his prize.

He darted his tongue across his dry lips, suddenly serious as he watched Grace, who had just turned back towards him with a look of triumph. She winked before silently beckoning him over with her finger in a come hither motion.

Tom bounded up the final two steps and launched his body at hers, again pinning her against the thick wooden door with a loud thump.

Grace opened her mouth to protest but was silenced by Tom's lips on hers.

"Tom! Grace! _Finally!_ I thought I heard somethi-"

The pair jumped apart in shock.

"Oof... Shit!" Grace cursed in surprise "Oops, sorry Mrs H!" Grace immediately apologised like a naughty school girl for swearing, at the same time doing her best to tamp down her flustered nerves.

_Fuck!_

Did Diana see them together? If she did she wasn’t letting on.

Grace decided to try to play it cool. They were, after all old family friends. They were just goofing around, racing to the top. _Yes! That was all…_

"Diana... Sarah… Emma! What... what are you all doing here? I thought we were meeting at the theatre?"

Grace's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she looked from one face to the other.

Tom slapped his hand to his forehead in realisation.

"Grace sweetheart! There was no way we were going to let you celebrate your birthday on your own...!" Diana smiled motherly at the girl "Tom. I thought Sarah had told you?"

"Um... She did. I just forget to be honest..." he mumbled sheepishly.

"Just like my little brother!" Sarah teased "selective memory!"

Tom, still stood behind Grace and praying his now wilting erection would stay down, glared at his older sister.

"I'll have you know-"

"Tom has been looking after me today Mrs H" Grace interrupted "He made me a birthday breakfast then organised a picnic at Abbotsford House..." her voice trailed off, wondering if she might have said too much but she saw only looks of pride on all of the Hiddleston women's faces.

"You taught him well!" Grace winked as she was pulled into a group hug by her best friend, her sister and their mother.

“Happy birthday Grace!”

Tom shuffled, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. His mother stepped around Grace and awkwardly hugged him too as she pulled him down to her height, whispering in his ear “My sweet boy. How kind of you to do that for Grace! And how I’ve missed you!” in his ear and kissing his pink cheek.

"But how did you get in here?" Grace’s eyebrows were almost touching as she tried to solve that puzzle.

"Mum could charm the-" Emma began with a snigger, looking across at her mother's rosy cheeks.

"Well. You see, the lovely man downstairs took pity on us and let us in when we explained the cake would melt in the sun unless we got it inside-" Diana looked somewhat sheepish.

"Then he rang your landlord and mum spoke to him too. Before you know it he was coming up the stairs with a master key... and an invitation for dinner!" Sarah finished, rolling her eyes.

“I turned him down of course!” Diana chuckled.

Grace wasn't sure whether to be appalled or impressed with Diana's persuasive skills. But in all honesty it didn't really matter. It was actually wonderful just to see the three of them again.

The four women stood grinning for a moment before Tom suddenly broke the silence.

“Did someone mention cake?”

Waggling his eyebrows at _all_ the women he loved as he followed his nose towards the tiny kitchen, he searched for an entirely different treat to the one he’d been hoping for as he’d chased Grace up the stairs only moments earlier.

Never fear, he thought with a grin. It would keep a few more hours.

_Today had just been a taster of things to come…_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone needs me i'll be hiding in a dark corner thinking about my life choices...


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hiddleston's take care of Grace...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV

 

"Good lord! Whatever’s happened to your knees Grace?!"

Tom immediately stopped in his tracks, all thoughts of birthday cake forgotten.

_Shit!_

Grace looked down nervously at the reddened skin and her mouth hung open in shock as, for the first time, she noticed her dirtied, scuffed knees. As is always the way with such things, the moment she saw the grazes, the dull ache of pain began to spread throughout her body.

“Oh… erm…” Grace stuttered, her cheeks flushing as she tried to think of something - _anything_ – to explain the marks away.

"She tripped in the car park!"

Tom’s quick thinking saved her from any more suspicious questioning as Diana immediately went into nurse mode, pulling Grace over to the sofa and seating her so she could take a better look.

Tom knelt alongside his mother, pretending to inspect the wounds, but really he just didn’t want Grace to think he didn’t care that _he’d_ done this to her, realising she must have been grinding them against the front grill of the car when they’d been having sex.

It had been his rash judgement that had caused Grace’s injuries and the dawning realisation that he might have ruined his chances with her for the sake of five minutes of frantic – _albeit fucking amazing_ – sex made him feel sick to his stomach.

He gripped the arm of the sofa, suddenly nauseous.

Grace looked down sheepishly to where Tom was knelt, his face pale and her heart twisted into a tight knot.

“Mrs H… There’s a first aid box under the dresser in my bedroom…there should be some antiseptic wipes and stuff in it hopefully.”

“Perfect!” Diana rose quickly and hesitated for a moment looking at the doors until Tom mumbled “that one”

“Sarah, can you get a wash cloth from the bathroom?” Grace asked as Diana opened her bedroom door and stepped inside.

Checking they weren’t being observed, Grace whispered “Tom… _It’s fine!”_ as she patted him gently on the hand, desperately wanting to pull him into her for a hug but conscious of Emma sat at the window, obliviously flicking through the book of poetry that Tom had bought Grace for her birthday.

He let out a stuttering breath of relief, one hand tentatively reaching out to stroke the dirty red mark on the knee nearest to him.

“Oy Tom! Take your great big gibbon hands off her before you make it any worse!” Sarah’s insult made Tom bristle but Grace gasped out a nervous laugh.

“Oh Sarah! Leave him alone. He was only checking I was okay, weren’t you Tom?” she smiled down at him before looking back up at her friend “he’s just feeling awful because it was _his_ idea to go out for the day and I’d been a little bit reluctant at first…” Grace looked pointedly back down at Tom’s earnest eyes, praying he would hear the veiled meaning of her next words “and, well… he’d been quite bossy at first but as I keep telling him, I _honestly_ had an amazing day… It was… _exhilarating_ in fact! He’s quite the tour guide you know? Seems to instinctively know his way around everything! So, yeah… I’m hoping he has a few more places he fancies seeing while he’s up here in Edinburgh. It’s much more fun doing stuff with someone else than on your own after all!”

Sarah looked down doubtfully at her gangly brother and when his cheeks burned she rolled her eyes, wondering if she needed to warn her best friend about encouraging Tom’s ridiculous crush on her.

Diana on the other hand had also returned with the first aid box and was looking fondly down at her caring son.

“I think that’s an excellent idea you two!” she nodded, kneeling back down and taking the washcloth from Sarah’s outstretched hands, swiping it gently over Grace’s scuffed knees.

Grace winced, her post coital endorphins clearly well and truly having worn off. Tom instinctively grabbed her hand and when Sarah raised her eyebrows again, he shrugged in irritation “What now? She’s in pain Sarah! I don’t see _you_ offering her any help!”

Not waiting to see the look of shock on his sister’s face, Tom turned back to Grace and murmured “Just squeeze my hand as hard as you need to. I can take it…”

If Sarah had any more thoughts about this behaviour she kept them to herself as Grace gripped Tom’s hand while Diana, apologising all the while, carefully cleaned her wounds, before applying two huge Band-Aids.

“Most attractive!” Grace groaned as she looked down in embarrassment at her knees, now sporting bright orange Tigger Band-Aids “Looks like I won’t be wearing the dress I’d originally planned on!”

Tom again looked sheepish but Diana soon cheered everyone up by reminding them about the cake.

Soon the Hiddleston’s were singing happy birthday to a grinning Grace.

“Stop! You have to make a wish!” Emma declared solemnly as Grace opened her mouth to blow out the candles.

“Oh yes… right!” Grace caught Tom’s eyes and she felt her cheeks starting to bloom with colour again. She closed her eyes and wished that everyday could be as perfect as this one, before taking a deep breath and blowing.

As they sat eating the cake, Sarah asked about the play, telling Tom how overwhelmed with pride their father had been when she’d spoken to him earlier. Tom beamed.

That is, until he looked at his watch and panicked.

“Shit-”

“Thomas!”

“Sorry mum! But I’m going to be late if I don’t get a move on…” he sighed, suddenly in a flap as he looked around for a more suitable change of clothes for after the performance.

“Tom calm down. We’ll see you after the show okay?”

“Okay… Right… yeah. Erm, Grace… you are coming aren’t you?”

“Oh... I just assumed I’d be meeting you all afterwards for supper?”

“Nonsense Grace!” Diana laughed “He’s not that terrible in it, is he?” she winked teasingly at her son who pouted.

“Oh no! He was wonderful! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” she smiled shyly, desperately trying to hold back her compliments but utterly failing.

Tom’s smug grin and subsequent stuck out tongue at his mother made her wish for a second that she’d tried harder but they all laughed and soon Tom was waving goodbye and just the four women remained.  

“So then… tell me all about Thailand. I’ve only heard brief snippets on the way up here from Sarah. It sounds like you girls had an absolute ball over there!”

The women settled into easy conversation, finishing off the rest of the cake, barring a small slice which Grace carefully folded up in kitchen roll for later, knowing Tom would never forgive them if there was none left for him.

As time marched on Grace remembered her bedding and excused herself to remake her bed, Sarah offering to help.

“So…”

“Hmm?” Grace glanced up at her friend as they each pulled down the corners of the fitted sheet, smoothing it over the mattress.  

“Tom…”

“What about Tom?” Grace tried her best to look nonchalant, praying her best friend couldn’t see the way her heart had suddenly began to thump in her chest.

“Has he been a pain like earlier all the time he’s been up here? Do you want me to have a word with him for you?”

“What? No!” Grace blurted her reply, before backtracking “Well. Maybe a little full on y’know? But don’t say anything. He means well. And it’s nothing I can’t handle…”

“You sure? If it was me I’d want to slap him!” Sarah rolled her eyes and laughed.

“I’m sure. It’s fine. As I said earlier, it’s actually nice just to have some company up here…” her voice trailed off and Sarah didn’t miss the sadness in her voice.

“Did the Out-Of-Towners get in touch?”

Grace frowned, all of the joy of the day so far draining from her body at the mention of _them_. The 'Out-Of-Towners' was the two friend’s nickname for Grace’s parents, on account of them always _being_ out of town.

“Oh yeah…” Grace rolled her eyes “they actually rang me this year, early this morning…!”

Sarah’s mouth hung open in shock but quickly closed as she heard her friend choke back a loud sob “Not that they remembered it was my fucking birthday…”

“What!” Sarah climbed over the freshly made bed to Grace and pulled her into a tight hug “Tell me what those fuckers did this time?!”

“N…Nothing…” Grace sniffled against her friends shoulder “that’s just the point! They rang me on my birthday but didn’t even wish me happy birthday! How fucked up is that?”

“Bastards!”

Grace wiped angrily at her face.

She really needed to stop caring. If she didn’t care so much she couldn’t be disappointed.

“Ah well, at least I know there will be a couple of hundred quid in my bank!” Grace tried to joke but there was no humour in her voice. Even birthday presents were automated, her father telling her years ago that he had set up a standing order for her birthday “Just in case we ever miss it.”

They’d missed every birthday since…

“Right. Enough! _We’re_ here now. And we’re your family Grace. So let’s get you tidied up, go watch my annoying little brother act his socks off, then get well and truly pissed! Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like fun, although I probably shouldn’t drink…” Grace finally smiled, her heart missing a beat as she reminded herself of the birthday present she intended on unwrapping once she was alone with Tom again.

“Why?” her friend looked at her suspiciously. Grace had never turned down a drink before!

“Ugh. It’s just these tablets I got in Thailand. They don’t react too well with alcohol. Just ask your dad… _or Tom!”_ Grace’s voice trailed off in embarrassment but thankfully her friend must have already heard something from her father as she began laughing.

“Oh so _that’s_ what dad was going on about!”

When Grace looked at her in shame, Sarah threw her arms back around her friend and squeezed her “Don’t worry. Dad was just a bit worried, that’s all… he still loves you just as much as the rest of us!”

Grace visibly relaxed.

Joining the other two women back in the cramped lounge Grace noticed the time.

“Right. I’m going to take a quick shower. If anyone else wants one you’re more than welcome. In the meantime, make yourselves at home”

With that, Grace made her way into the solitude of the bathroom, _finally_ allowing herself to process the events of earlier that day.

Soaping herself up with her favourite body wash, she took a moment to remember the feel of Tom’s hands on her body, his lips on her skin, in the process having to bite down on her own lip so as not to let out a loud moan.

Although reluctant to wash away the reminder of his touches from her body, she looked forward to many more caresses from his talented mouth and body before the week was through…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my lovely readers are the last people I should be saying patience to, but I promise you there's more shenanigans 'coming'... ;)


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a couple of days since Grace's birthday and Tom reminisces... (denoted by Italic paragraphs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual flashback follows the *** (Hope that makes sense?!)
> 
> (Obviously Tom POV)
> 
> Totally NSFW... You have been warned!

_To say the next couple of days were heaven for Tom would be an understatement. Not only was he spending his evenings garnering rave reviews on stage – realising that for the first time he truly believed he had a future in the acting profession – but also he got to spend the rest of his time with the woman of his dreams. At night they explored every inch of each other’s bodies, constantly finding new and inventive ways to make the other moan in ecstasy. By day they talked, laughed, explored the city, and yes, one another in all sorts of daring places._

_Yes, Tom really was living the dream._

_It was difficult for Tom to choose one single thing he loved above everything else after the sudden shift in his relationship with Grace from - sort of - friends to lovers, but if he was forced with a gun to his head, he would probably say - apart from the sweet, musky taste of her arousal - how responsive and yet unpredictable she became with the mere touch of his mouth on her most intimate parts._

_When she started to reach her peak under his lips, sometimes she would scream, other times sigh with pleasure, sometimes she would giggle, and occasionally she would even cry sweet tears of joy. But always she would moan, and in such a delightfully erotic manner that his cock would be rock hard, desperate to replace his tongue._

_Indeed, the vocally wanton woman he made love to now was in sharp contrast to the almost silent one he’d lost his virginity to only last month. And yet she was still the same beautiful Grace, and the simple fact was Tom couldn’t get enough of her. Of her smile. Her laugh. Her soft, pliant body._

_Her taste._

_And - it seemed - the feeling was mutual._

_He had to admit he’d been nervous when they’d first returned to Edinburgh after their frantic al fresco birthday fuck, having wondered whether Grace would again tell him it shouldn't have happened. Especially after they'd barely even spoken about it in the car, other than when Grace had offered him the baby wipes._

_That was half the reason he’d made such a show of licking his fingers clean. He wanted Grace to know he was serious. That he wanted her, truly wanted her. And not just for sex – although by God he wanted to do every damn erotic thing he’d read about in those magazines to her – but also as so much more. Their day together at Abbotsford House had proved that not only were they compatible physically, they also rubbed along just fine as companions once Grace let her guard down and he relaxed._

_So that’s why he’d been so edgy when Act II was thwarted first by those infuriating teenagers and then later by his own mother and sisters._

_Never before had his cock deflated so quickly as when his mum had opened that door!_

_Their hopes of a repeat performance that afternoon may very well have been thwarted by the Hiddleston women, but they’d more than made up for it since then._

***

Later that evening, after a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant close to Grace flat and with a chorus of proud congratulations and happy birthday still ringing in their ears, his family bid the clandestine couple farewell to leave for their sleeper train back down to Oxford.

And suddenly there he was, _finally_ alone once more with Grace.

His heart thumped in his chest with a combination of nervous energy and adrenaline as they slowly walked up The Mound, barely speaking and not even daring to look at one another, much less touch.

That is, until they had reached the final flight of stairs, where Grace took his hand and stopped him, stepping up two steps higher so they were eye to eye.

She’d regarded him then with a look of pure sin and before he could even open his mouth she was on him, kissing and sucking his lips, his tongue, his neck, as her hands groped for his rapidly hardening length through his jeans.

Tom had gently pushed her hands away, and for a moment she’d looked at him like she might cry, seemingly thinking he no longer wanted her. But when he’d groaned into her ear “Inside. Now!” she’d moaned in anticipation, biting her lip as he’d interlinked his fingers in hers and guided Grace up the final steps and into her flat, almost smacking his head on the lintel in his haste to get her into that bedroom and undressed.

_Despite having now savoured her more times than he could remember, he would never forget that first night he’d trailed his tongue down her naked body…_

***

The air was fraught with sexual tension as they made their way the short distance across the lounge, towards Grace’s bedroom, each insisting on stopping to kiss and paw frantically at the other.

As they reached the bedroom door, Tom hesitated, seemingly needing an unspoken invitation to enter what had been, up to this point, completely out of bounds to him.

Looking back he would admit that he needed it to be Grace who crossed that invisible line first, so that he could truly relax in the knowledge that _this_ time she meant it.

So when she pushed open the door and looked up at him, her lips parted as she breathed rapidly it took every last bit of restraint he possessed not to just scoop her up in his arms and throw her on the bed.

As it was, he needn’t have worried because Grace must have sensed his hesitation and took the lead, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him. They stood for a moment, each weighing the other up as the air crackled with electricity in the darkness.

And then she was on him again, pushing him up against the door and standing on her tip toes as she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him with such ferocity that he could barely breath.

Grace’s hips pushed urgently against Tom and she groaned into his mouth as the hard bulge in his jeans pressed against her belly.

Pulling away reluctantly she looked up at him and moaned “I _need_ you…”

It was such a desperate plea that all Tom could do was growl as he pushed her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the end of the bed.

“I need you too…” he whispered as his hands slid sensuously down over the curve of her hips, pulling up her calf length dress until it was at her waist and pushing her back onto the bed.

Grace bounced back onto the mattress in surprise and giggled, turning to stretch out for the bedside lamp and switching it on.

Tom growled in response as the room was suddenly illuminated with a warm golden glow and he straddled her bare calves, leaning down and trailing his tongue slowly up the smooth skin to her knees. He paused, stiffening as he looked guiltily down at her knees, still covered in those ridiculous plasters and sighed.

As if instinctively knowing what Tom was thinking Grace whispered “It was worth it…” and his shoulders visibly relaxed as he looked up solemnly at her, tears prickling in his eyes as he spoke earnestly “I’ll never hurt you again. _I promise_ ”

Grace smiled and nodded in validation and he finally smiled again, as his mind returned to the task in hand - that being to worship this goddess that had finally submitted herself to him.

Tom leant forward, pulling Grace so that she was sat upright, her legs still straddled by his own as he gently began kissing her. He slid his hands around her waist, trailing his long fingers up her back in search of her zip and making her shiver in the process.

“Mmm” Grace sighed dreamily as Tom’s tongue began to probe her mouth, while he finally located the zip and unhurriedly pulled it down. He broke away just long enough to drag the soft fabric up and over her head, tossing it behind him as his lips descended once more on hers, his fingers now occupied with unclasping her bra.

Tom lowered Grace back down onto the bed and knelt up, admiring her naked torso for the first time in real detail. It had looked amazing in moonlight, but nothing could have prepared him for how much more beautiful she looked close up.

She was looking at him too, her lips glistening with their combined saliva and that same sinful glint in her eyes as she slid her hands towards the belt of his jeans and grunted “Off!”

Tom chuckled wickedly and rose, unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. As he unbelted his jeans and pushed them down his narrow hips he didn’t miss the way Grace was watching him intently, her blue eyes almost black as she licked her lips at the sight of his tented boxers, and his cock throbbed in response.

 _Patience_ , he warned himself. There was something he’d been desperate to do ever since he’d licked his fingers clean in the car. His impatient cock would have to wait.

_Just a bit longer…_

Tom toed off his trainers and hurriedly stepped out of his jeans then climbed back onto the bed, his hands immediately reaching out for the tiny scrap of soft black cotton covering Grace’s mound. Slipping it tauntingly slowly down her trembling thighs, careful not to catch her knees, Tom watched Grace’s perky breasts rise and fall faster and faster, and for a second he almost succumbed, the promise of pressing her tits tightly to his own chest as he penetrated her being almost too tempting.

But somehow he managed to resist, the memory of one particular article he’d read earlier that day promising much more bountiful returns in exchange for his self-control.

With this in mind Tom stretched over her again, bringing their faces forehead to forehead and kissing her soundly, before breaking contact and slowly trailing his tongue along her jaw line and up towards the shell of her ear.

Grace shuddered underneath him as he sucked the fleshy lobe into his mouth, relishing the gasp of surprise that accompanied it.

“Do you trust me Grace?” he breathed into her ear and she whimpered, nodding furiously.

“Say it…”

“I… _mmm_ … I trust you…” she gasped.

Tom growled and gently nibbled her lobe, making her shudder again and then his mouth was gone, his hot tongue now trailing down her collar bone and to where Grace’s glorious breasts were now taunting him. Their rosy pink nipples were taut and her smooth golden flesh puckered with goosebumps as his mouth opened over one, not touching it, merely taunting her with the merest caress of his hot breath on her trembling skin.

Grace moaned and instinctively bucked up, unconsciously urging his mouth closer to her achingly hard nipple and Tom willingly succumbed, pressing his lips to the taut little bud and beginning to suck greedily. His tongue swirled, teasing and lapping as he opened his mouth wider to accommodate even more of her breast. Accompanied by Grace’s wanton moans his hand slid up and cupped her other breast, pressing her nipple against his rough palm as he squeezed and kneaded it just like in his dreams.

As Tom alternated his hands and mouth, ensuring he’d explored every inch of both breasts, Grace’s hands spread across his back in an attempt to navigate his throbbing bulge closer to her own pulsing heat.

But Tom was nothing if not dedicated to his mission and he gently but insistently pulled her hands free, sliding them up above her head and holding both wrists easily in one hand as his other hand stroked down the underside of her arm - causing Grace to giggle softly - before whispering to her “you have all the time in the world to touch me later baby, I promise. But just let me worship you now… _Please_ ”

His tone was almost desperate, dripping with need and Grace panted, all trace of laughter gone as she nodded frantically, her teeth biting hard into her bottom lip, no doubt wondering what diabolically sensual act he had in store for her next.

She didn’t have to wait long as Tom’s tongue travelled languidly from lapping at her breasts down towards her navel, marvelling at its near perfect heart shape before tracing the outline with the very tip of his tongue and eliciting the most wonderful groan of surprise from Grace’s lips.

As his tongue continued its excruciatingly slow journey south, the tip of his nose nuzzled her still moist navel, and Grace whimpered again at the sensation, causing Tom to gasp out his own moan of appreciation.

Travelling down further still, he paused to inhale Grace’s musky scent as his nose briefly brushed against her neatly trimmed pubic hair and he let out a guttural groan of his own.

How he didn’t just sink his tongue into her folds there and then to taste her he would never know, but showing unbridled restraint he somehow kept to his plan, drawing his tongue instead down over one squirming thigh, his breath now hot and ragged as he looked up to her and gasped out “I’m going to let go now… _Don’t_ _… move_ … _Okay?”_   

Grace moaned but nodded furiously as Tom finally released her hands from above her head, letting them relax down by her sides.

With both of his own hands now free, Tom shifted on the bed, nudging her thighs apart with his knees before spreading them even wider with his large hands and holding them in place, growling as he looked down only to see for the first time her arousal already glistening between her pink lips.

“Christ Grace! Do you have _any_ idea how fucking beautiful you look right now?” he groaned deeply, his eyes reluctantly leaving her moist opening only to look deeply into her now inky black eyes through his own hooded ones with wondrous admiration.

“Tom...” Grace whimpered, her face and décolleté blotchy red and her breathing now erratic as she impatiently willed him to put her out of her misery.

Never one to shirk his responsibilities, Tom could not bear to see his beloved so uncomfortable any longer and so, with a wink of acknowledgement, he finally lowered his mouth to the sacred spring he’d long been desperate to drink from.

Tom flattened his tongue against her mound, licking a long stripe from bottom to top which caused Grace to buck up and gasp out a moan of tortured need. He repeated the motion, this time pausing to nuzzle his nose again against her pubis as his hot breath taunted her dripping pussy.

“Thomas… _please!”_ she moaned in response, trying again to lift her pelvis up towards his mouth but meeting resistance as Tom tightened his grip on her thighs.

 _“Remember what I said… Don’t. Move!”_ Tom growled with an authority that surprised even him and rewarded her impatience with an even more tortuously slow lick with his thick tongue.

The start of another frustrated moan from Grace’s lips made him finally have mercy on her and before she could even finish, Tom pointed his tongue and pressed through her lips, slowly teasing it inside her silky folds before plunging it into her hot depths.

The sound of their combined groans - Tom’s own muffled against Grace’s sopping pussy - rose indecently loudly in the small room, but neither cared.

Tom repeated the action, before dragging his tongue back out and up over her hooded clit, seeking out her little bean by sucking it hungrily out of hiding.

Grace gasped under him, unable to stop her body from writhing as Tom assaulted her most delicate parts with his greedy mouth.

Pulling away for air Tom gasped out “Fuck… I can’t… get enough… of… of you Grace… _You taste fucking amazing!”_

And before Grace could even respond his mouth was back on her clit, laving it with determination before canting his tongue back up inside her silky depths and pushing so deep that the tip of his nose rubbed repeatedly against her now engorged clit in a maddening rhythm, causing Grace to clench and scream out “Don’t stop…! _Oh Jesus!_ _Don’t… you fucking dare… stop!”_

His head was dizzy with her intoxicating scent and the pulsing sensation of Grace’s velvet walls as she began to squeeze his probing tongue tighter and tighter, signalling her imminent release. Tom groaned, causing her to tremble even harder and his mouth to fill with yet more of her hot, sweet nectar, accompanied by the most wanton wail of his given name.

_“Oh… Thomas!”_

Tom’s eyes flashed up from between Grace’s still trembling thighs to see her grasping desperately at her tits as she continued to buck against his mouth, her thighs fighting with the firm grip of his palms as she tried to wrap them round his head.

Tom decided at that moment that if he died tomorrow, there would be no sweeter sounds than those uttered by his darling Grace as she came undone by his tongue. And her taste? That was even sweeter. Her juices were more mouth-watering than the finest chocolate, and sweeter than the ripest fruit, and if she was the only sustenance he ever dined on again he would be the most satisfied man to walk the earth.

Reluctantly drawing his tongue out from her quivering depths he couldn’t resist one last lick from bottom to top, causing Grace to pant out another low groan as she shuddered and threw an exhausted arm over her eyes.

“ _I think…_ I think you might just have just killed me…” were the first words she finally gasped out, followed by the filthiest giggle, and Tom felt his painfully hard cock throb with pride.

“I fucking hope not!” Tom growled as he finally released his hold on Grace’s thighs, slipping off his boxers and crawling up her sweat soaked body, then placing one hand either side of her head as his heavy cock rested on her belly.

He bent his head just close enough for Grace to smell her juices on his breath as he made a show of licking his lips and smirked when she wrinkled her nose and blushed.

“Don’t…” he whispered, suddenly earnest “don’t _ever_ be embarrassed with me. You’re fucking perfect Grace! Never forget that…”

Grace bit her lip for a moment as if in contemplation, the two lovers staring into one another’s eyes, and then her arms were around Tom, pulling him down into a sensual kiss, as she moaned against his tongue, tasting herself on him.

Reluctantly breaking free she finally gasped out “ _Make love to me…”_

Tom growled and pulled her up with him as he moved further down her body into a sitting position, groaning into her mouth as her breasts flattened against his chest and she straddled his thighs.

“Your wish is my command mi ’lady!” he winked infuriatingly at Grace and in one smooth motion Tom lifted her with one arm as his other hand gripped his stiff cock and then he was pushing her down, her glistening slit parting to accommodate his thick length.

Grace threw her head back, letting out a guttural cry only surpassed by Tom’s strangulated groan as he buried his cock inside her slippery heat, his jaw clenching and his teeth gritted as he waited for Grace’s accommodating stretch, but also intent on staving off any premature end to their coupling.

Painfully slowly he began to move Grace up and down, her hands acting as leverage as her short nails left half-moon indents in his broad shoulders, in turn eliciting a growl of pain tinged pleasure from Tom’s slack mouth and causing another flood of arousal to flood his cock.

They kept this excruciatingly slow rhythm for some time, but as Grace recovered her strength she began to take over, arching her back and pushing herself infinitesimally deeper with each languid stroke until Tom was hitting some sort of resistance. Whatever it was, Grace howled and increased her pace, rubbing his dick against that same spot until she was bouncing up and down, her tits momentarily hypnotising Tom as they bounced to the same rhythm, before he began to meet each bounce with a thrust of his own and a rasping grunt.

Grace’s own groans grew louder and louder as her walls started to squeeze his painfully hard cock and when she moaned “Tom… I can’t hold… _Oh God! Fuck!_ ” he felt her clamp down hard and he was seeing stars as he slammed into her throbbing walls once, twice, then one final time in a staccato rhythm before holding her still as he pumped his seed deep inside her with a hoarse roar of _“Grace!”._

They clung to one another - their bodies soaked with each other’s fluids – panting and gasping out stuttering breaths as they desperately searched for oxygen to fill their burning lungs.  

“Who are you, and what the hell have you done with my sweet, innocent Thomas?!” Grace finally gasped out as they collapsed into a sweaty heap, limbs slowly entangling and eyes heavy with sleep.

 _“I’m yours Grace._ _Simple as that…”_ Tom whispered, pulling her closer into his body, his chin resting wearily against her shoulder as sleep quickly overwhelmed them both.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because my ever patient readers (and young Thomas and Grace) NEEDED this... <3


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically four and a half thousand words of porn. This chapter has no redeeming plot whatsoever... I regret nothing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Cos some things can be just _too _damn good to resist…__
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _(Mainly Grace POV. If you haven't already guessed it's NSFW. Or anywhere else for that matter...)_  
> 

 

Grace woke to the dead weight of what felt like a large tree spread across her small frame. Half groaning, half yawning, the events of the past twenty four hours came crashing back to her and she sighed dreamily as she realised the tree was Tom, it’s branches his lanky limbs spread out across her as if he’d taken root.

Unlike the last time she’d woken in Tom’s arms, this time Grace smiled. Blinking her eyes open she came face to face with his and her breath caught.

He was still fast asleep and his usually grinning, cheeky face was a picture of serenity, almost childlike in its angelic innocence.

It was in stark contrast to the hedonistic devil that had looked her in the eyes last night as he’d ravaged her. Just the mere memory of Tom’s talented tongue doing exquisite things to her lady parts made her throb for more of the same, but as she squirmed, trying to quell the ache she felt building between her thighs, another sensation there alerted her to the need to empty her bladder.

And therein lay the predicament. Tom was wrapped so closely to her body that to move would be certain to wake him, and she simply couldn’t bring herself to do that just yet. So instead she lay, perfectly still, watching his parted mouth as he breathed, and relished the comforting heat from his embrace.

That is, until she could no longer bear it.

If she didn’t go to pee now she was in serious danger of wetting the bed and she was pretty certain that - regardless of how many times Tom told her how much he cared about her – to do _that_ might just be a step too far!

So with great reluctance Grace began slowly trying to unpeel Tom from her body – quite literally - their skin having stuck together after last night’s sweaty aerobics.

Tom grunted in displeasure at the unsolicited disturbance and attempted to grab hold of Grace again, eyes still squeezed tightly shut but that angelically innocent expression now replaced with an almost petulant frown.

“No…” Tom grumbled sleepily “don’t go… _Grace! Please…_ ”

Grace’s heart sunk hearing the hurt confusion in Tom’s voice and she was swift to reassure him.

“Tom… I’m only going to the bathroom… I’ll only be a minute sweetheart” her tone was almost motherly and she realised she would need to stop that. If there was one thing she’d learned over the last couple of days with Tom, he was undeniably a man now… and he had no need for another mother!

Feeling that earlier ache of desire starting to coil inside her again she quickly untangled herself from his last limb and crept out of bed, ignoring Tom’s deep sigh.

She pulled on her robe and made her way to the bathroom where she quickly relieved herself and freshened up as best she could with Tom yelling impatiently “Hurry up! I miss you!” in an over the top whiny voice.

She couldn’t help but to laugh as she reached the door to her bedroom only to see Tom - eyes still heavy with sleep, his curls sticking up wildly and looking absolutely delicious because of it - sat upright in bed pouting at her. As she stepped inside the room her giggle caught in her throat, only to be replaced by a loud groan as Tom threw back the cover and revealed his impressive erection, whining “ _He_ missed you even more!”

Grace bit her lip. Hard.

Dear God! This man _really was_ going to be the death of her!

She licked her lips, knowing what she wanted to do. Tom had made her feel so good with his mouth last night that she wanted to return the favour.

But as she climbed up onto the bed and crawled closer, Tom pounced, grabbing her and pinning her down underneath him. Clearly he had his own ideas.

Once again she had to admire the hidden strength of his rangy physique. But she didn’t fight him. _She didn’t want to._

Her plan would keep. With Tom bearing down on her with hooded eyes and a look of pure sin she knew she would do anything to please him. If that meant submitting to whatever he had in store, who was she to argue? Clearly he’d got himself some serious skills since their first awkward encounter and if she was totally honest, she was excited to find out what he would pull out of the bag next!

He lowered his face to hers, kissing her soundly and groaning into her mouth as he felt the cotton barrier between them.

Pulling away, his hand roamed down to the tie of her robe and he grumbled “First things first, this silly little thing needs to go!” before pulling it open and growling at what was revealed.

“Oh yes! Much, much better. There will be no more taunting me in _this_ though!” Tom purred, with a shockingly evil smirk on his face as he pushed the soft fabric further back, his stormy eyes flicking down at her breasts and then back up into her own wild eyes “Do you have any idea how _hard_ it was to concentrate on my breakfast yesterday with _these_ …” he paused to circle one of Grace’s taut pink nipples with the rough pad of his thumb "pointing at me?”

Grace moaned, unable to even think straight, let alone answer him as his lips sank onto the other nipple, doing those fiendishly wonderful things with his tongue that caused her to groan and buck up, the brush of his heavy cock against her now exposed core making her cry out in desperation to feel it stretch her again.

“Oh God! Stop taunting me!” she finally gasped, using what little strength she could muster to wrap her thighs around his and roll them both over.

Having been far too preoccupied with Grace’s delectable nipples, Tom was taken by surprise and rolled with surprising ease onto his back, finding himself now straddled by her.

“So you want to play it like that, do you?” he grunted, as Grace proceeded to pin his hands above his head on the pillow, the difference in arm span meaning her nipples dangled tauntingly close to Tom’s hungry mouth.

The only problem was, now she actually _had_ him in this position, she wasn’t entirely sure what to _do_ with him. Or perhaps more accurately, _how_ to do it. Clearly Tom was much more experienced than she was, a fact she found desperately embarrassing given their age difference, but now was not the time to dwell on such things…

All she _did_ know was that the ache in her pussy was reaching near crisis point and she desperately needed Tom to help her with it.

Lowering her torso, she traced one hard nipple down over Tom’s finely stubbled chin, eliciting a shudder from them both and a frustrated growl from Tom as he attempted to bend his head closer to gather it into his watering mouth. But Grace was too quick for him and she slipped both her outstretched arms and her body down in one fluid motion so that her entire body was flush with his. This time it was her time to growl, the cool lean hardness of Tom’s solid chest pressing against her own soft warm curves making her shiver with desire.

Tom lay motionless, save for the treacherous twitch of his cock against her thigh, seemingly intrigued as to what she would do next. She slid further down, just enough that his thick length was barely brushing her outer folds and then proceeded to lick _his_ nipples.

Tom gasped in shock but she took no notice, instead doing her best to ignore the flood of arousal she could now feel trickling down between her thighs as she set about laving and suckling each one in turn.

But Grace was brought crashing back to her senses when the noises rumbling up from underneath her chest became almost inhuman and she realised her tongue had been replaced with her teeth and she was now greedily nipping at Tom’s painfully hard nipples with her teeth.   

“ _Ow Fuck!_ Now who’s doing the taunting eh?” Tom panted as she released his nipple guiltily, gasping out an apology.

Tom took his opportunity and rolled her so that she back underneath him again, wasting no time in pushing her thighs wide apart and kneeling between them as he languidly stroked his weeping cock, looking down with hunger at her soaked pussy.

Grace writhed under his gaze, now almost delirious for him to scratch her itch and unable to contain a low whine of “ _please_ ” as it slipped past her lips.

Mercifully he must have felt the same need, as finally he lowered himself to her.  Tom stroked his leaking shaft along the length of her dripping slit, combining their arousal and provoking a guttural groan from Grace’s rosebud lips which only grew louder as he started to push through and into her tight channel.

She would never take for granted that first delicious stretch which Tom’s fat girth fashioned within her narrow walls each time he made love to her. As her body relaxed to accommodate him she bucked her hips, urging him to move and when he finally did, the feeling was so exquisite that tears formed in her eyes and she had to choke back a sob of relief.

He would take care of her ache.

He would look after her.

_He would be there for her…_

Tom, who up until this point had been utterly transfixed by the sight of his cock disappearing into Grace’s wet heat, heard her sniffles and looked up, his darkened sapphire blue eyes immediately switching from an almost feral look to one of deep concern.

He immediately ceased his movements and Grace whined loudly.

“Baby…?” his worried voice was barely more than a shaky whisper as panic overwhelmed him “Grace? What is it? Am I hurting you? Tell me…”

Grace sniffled again and looked him in the eyes, her bottom lip trembling as she fought back the tears, and causing Tom’s to do the same.

She took a stuttering breath and tried to explain “It just feels…” she sniffed again, realising that Tom was now close to tears as he looked at her. Guilt overwhelmed her, causing the flood gates to open as she finally sobbed “It just feels _so_ good…”

“W…what?” Tom sniffled, wondering if he’d heard her right.

“It feels so… fucking… GOOD Tom! _So, so good!_ ” she sighed with relief as Tom’s face relaxed into a grin as he chuckled and began to slowly move again.

“Thank fucking Christ for that!” he groaned with relief, relishing the ripple that fluttered across his cock as Grace giggled, tears of pleasure still streaming down her red cheeks as she arched her back, pushing her pelvis harder into Tom’s thrusts.

Tom responded by lifting her calves and drawing them up over each of his elbows, opening Grace even wider and deepening the angle.

“Oh… God!”

“Good?” Tom growled, his jaw clenching as his pace quickened.

“Ugh… Not Good… _Great!_ ” Grace moaned, unable to hold off the wave of ecstasy that had been slowly spiralling inside her. She grabbed hold of one of her breasts and pinched her nipple hard as Tom pounded into her at a frenetic pace. At this angle she would be done for in seconds, she just knew it.

As her delirious tears continued to stream down her face she felt that white hot heat as it spread from deep within her pussy, engulfing her entire body in warmth, and that was it. Everything became fuzzy just as Tom’s cock seemed to grow inside her tightly clenching walls.

Her toes curled and she fisted the duvet with her other hand, throwing her head back and positively wailing with pleasure as she felt Tom pump his seed just as her own paroxysms hit fever pitch.

“ _O…oh… Tom..._ ” her voice was husky as her trembling arms eventually reached out to stroke his sweat soaked chest as he grunted “Gr…ace!” his voice breaking as he continued thrusting erratically.

With his own head thrown back, every tensed vein in his neck was exposed and slick with sweat, and Grace nearly came again as her eyes were drawn to the sight.

She wanted to lick every last fucking vein!

Her pussy clenched tightly at the thought and Tom flinched.

“Ow… ow… ow!” he grimaced “Fuck! Grace… _stop!”_

Grace looked up at him in bemusement as he hastily withdrew his now limp cock and rolled onto his back with a low groan. For a moment he just lay there, breathing heavily, his forehead drawn into deep lines before finally he rolled back onto his side and pulled a now confused and sulking Grace unwillingly closer to him.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled “My dick’s _really_ sensitive when I’ve just come and… well, you suddenly started squeezing it even more! It’s a pretty tight fit to begin with so when that happened… _well_ … It fucking hurt! But I’m sorry for shouting baby…”

He sighed, closing his eyes and licking his lips nervously.

Grace had the decency to at least look suitably embarrassed at this confession.

She leant closer and kissed him tenderly on his cheek, stroking her hand across his sweaty forehead and shifting a few damp curls out of the way.

“Oh Tom! I’m really, really sorry!”

Tom sighed again, this time opening his eyes and smiling shyly back at her worried face.

“It’s okay. It’s just one of those things. We’re still learning about each other, right? There’s probably going to be stuff I do that you don’t like…” his voice trailed off for a minute as he appeared to be debating whether or not to ask.

Grace saw the hesitation in his eyes and whispered “Nothing yet… but I’ll let you know”

Tom’s face relaxed and pulled her closer against him, and they lay for several minutes, just listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing.

It was Grace who finally pulled away, eliciting a groan from Tom as she wrinkled her nose.

“Erm… actually there _is_ something, now I come to think about it. But it’s about both of us…”

Tom leant up on his elbow, eyebrow quirked as he waited to hear what her complaint was.

“We… erm, God. There’s no nice way to say this so i'm just going to say it… we bloody _stink_ Tom!”

Tom held a hand to his chest as if he’d been wounded and his mouth hung open in mock outrage.

When Grace started to look sheepish, wishing she’d somehow been able to say it more tactfully, he rolled back on top of her, pinning her against him as he rubbed his naked, sweaty, and yes, _smelly_ body against hers.

“Oh we do stink my lovely Grace…. We stink of sweat, and lust… _and sex!_ And it smells absolutely fucking marvellous!”

“Ugh! You’re incorrigible!” she wrinkled her nose again but couldn’t help but to grin as he winked at her, his lips grazing hers before he paused and looked her straight in the eye.

“Morning breath on the other hand? Not so good!”

And with an “Oof” at the swift smack to his arse from Grace, Tom was unpeeling himself from her sweaty body, all the while chuckling to himself as he stood, stretching out his long limbs before strutting – yes, _strutting_ – naked out into the lounge.

Grace lay on the bed, grinning like a fool as she listened to his footsteps grow quieter and then the sound of the toilet seat being lifted.

 _Okay…_ No need to listen to any more of _that_ …

Wobbling to her feet on still shaky legs Grace hummed to herself as she stretched and re-tied her robe, looking down at her sorry looking knees with the Tigger plasters hanging forlornly down by their corners. She pulled the rest of them off with a slight wince, depositing them in the bin and inspected her ankle. The bite was no longer swollen, and thankfully it only hurt if she knocked it. Saying a silent prayer to hopefully prevent that from happening she wandered out into the kitchen to see what she could rustle up for breakfast. She knew she really needed to go shopping so she just prayed there was _something_ left _._

She was starving, so Tom must be ravenous!

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tom’s muffled voice from the bathroom “Baby? Could you just come here a minute?”

Her heart fluttered at how natural it suddenly sounded to be called such a name by Tom. How quickly things had changed!

She made her way to the bathroom door and listened. She could hear the shower so she knocked. Despite their intimacy, things were still ridiculously new between them and she didn’t want to overstep boundaries and invade Tom’s privacy.

“You _can_ come in you know?” he yelled over the sound of the running water with a chuckle “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before!”

Grace rolled her eyes but tentatively opened the door, peeking her head through the gap.

Tom was stood with the shower door open, freshly washed and glistening wet, with his hands on his hips and a semi hard cock. _Again…_

Grace couldn’t stop the groan which escaped her treacherous lips.

_Oh would you come the fuck on!_

Tom, in his defence, looked suitably confused before he looked down and saw the thing Grace couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from.

Looking sheepish, he covered himself with his hands – _yes ladies and gentlemen, it required both hands!_ – and shrugged helplessly.

“I figured I’d get straight in the shower seeing as you said I stunk… But I just… erm… well, I got to thinking about you and, well… ta-da!” Tom grinned guiltily

“So that’s why you called me in here…?” Grace quirked an eyebrow and licked her lips but Tom shook his head vehemently “No. _No… Honestly!_ I just forgot my towel…!”

“Oh really?” Grace reluctantly tore her eyes away from Tom’s cock and took a step closer “That’s a pity…!”

Tom quirked his eyebrow but said nothing.

Having been emboldened by Tom’s explanation, she took another step closer and slowly un-tied her robe, allowing the thin cotton fabric to float down to the floor as she stepped into the shower cubicle alongside him and closed the door behind her.

It was a tight squeeze but Grace didn’t care, reaching her hand down and gently stroking Tom’s cock. His mouth hung open as he watched her.

“So…” Grace purred, pressing her naked body up against Tom’s in the confined space, her small hand encircling his length as best she could “you were thinking about _me_?”

“Mmm hmm” Tom nodded secretively, a small grin beginning to form on his slack lips.

Grace bit her lip and wriggled closer still, turning Tom just enough so that they were both under the hot spray. He widened his stance and snaked his arms gently around her neck.

She grinned back up at him as she reached for her body wash and squeezed a generous handful into her palm, releasing Tom’s cock to a disappointed groan.

But the groan changed from one of disappointment to one of pleasure when she lathered up her hands and spread them out wide across Tom’s chest, the tips of her fingers grazing his hardened nipples as she massaged the [citrusy floral blend](http://www.feelunique.com/p/Calvin-Klein-CK-One-Hair-and-Body-Wash-250ml) over his arms, shoulders and torso before sliding them lower and encircling his waist.

“Tell me what you were thinking…” Grace whispered, her breath quickening as she kneaded Tom’s ass.

She was rewarded with another low groan as Tom opened his mouth to speak.

“Mmm… well… I was thinking about how good you tasted last night on my tongue… and… erm… yesterday in the car…on my fingers”

Tom at least had the decency to look suitably embarrassed as he revealed how he’d got a kick out of tasting his own ejaculate mixed into her arousal.

Grace’s hands froze for a moment and Tom looked down at her in a panic until she moaned and slid one hand back around in-between them, coating her hand in the residual bubbles and slipping it down to grip his now erect cock again.

“ _Fuck…_ ” Tom growled, and this time, Grace looked up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Shall I tell _you_ something?” she licked her lips “When you started licking your fingers clean in my car you almost made me come again…”

Tom let out another guttural groan as she tightened her grip on his cock and slowly began to stroke him, wishing there was enough room in her stupidly small shower to crouch down and taste _him_. Kneeling unfortunately wasn’t really an option in her current state either so she continued to stroke, alternating hands and keeping his cock nice and slippery under the water and soap suds.

“Tell me how it tasted?” Grace asked suddenly, licking her lips again as Tom looked down at her with hooded eyes. He licked his own dry lips before slipping one hand down between her legs.

Tom parted her folds and hissed as he felt how wet she was, knowing it had nothing to do with the shower. He rubbed two long fingers up and down her slit before thrusting them inside and scooping up some of her juices.

Raising them up to Grace’s parted mouth he held them to her lips in invitation, growling “Try it for yourself!” and watched with fascination as she tentatively pointed her pink tongue out and lapped the pad of Tom’s index finger.

Tom’s feral groan rumbled through both their bodies as she then opened her mouth wider, her wet lips sinking over both fingers and sucking greedily.

“Fuck! That’s hot!” he gasped.

As Grace continued to suck every last trace from his shaking fingers, Tom’s other hand slid down between her thighs and replaced them with two more, probing her wet folds, the pad of his thumb roughly rubbing her oversensitive clit.

Meanwhile Grace’s hands had increased _their_ pace, gripping Tom’s cock harder before alternating between a fast and slow rhythm which had him grunting and moaning filthy words of encouragement.

“Fuck baby! Look at you! You’re _still_ all dirty and dripping in both our sweat! But you don’t care, do you? Just look at you! Licking up all our combined juices! _Here..._ ” Tom withdrew the soaked fingers from between her thighs, swapping them again with the ones in her mouth and watched slack jawed as Grace moaned lustily around his digits again, swirling her tongue and eliciting his own groan “Fuck we taste _so_ good together, don’t we baby? _So fucking good…_ ”

Tom’s lips suddenly crashed against Grace’s, opening her mouth wide with his tongue and sucking one of his fingers into his own as his other digits furiously pumped her sopping pussy.

Grace was writhing under his touch, the combination of Tom’s skilfully long fingers - knuckle deep - in her quivering pussy, his rough thumb rubbing frantically at her overworked pearl and the depraved way in which both of them were now suckling and groaning around his other, musk soaked fingers, a complete assault on her senses.

One of Grace’s own hands was now concentrating on the head of Tom’s cock, blindly working the foreskin back and forth, while the other continued to massage his length in quickening strokes somewhere under their tangled mess of limbs.

Tom’s hand fell away from their mouths as he panted heavily, instead gripping Grace’s waist as they groaned against each other’s lips.

“Oh fuck… _Tom_. _..!”_

“ _Grace… Baby!_ ”

And then they were both coming: Grace exploding around Tom’s lithe fingers; Tom pumping thick white ropes of cum over Grace’s hand and belly as he fell back against the tiled wall, pulling Grace weakly with him.

For some time they just leant there, the hot water pounding their exhausted bodies and washing away the evidence of their liaison, before Tom twisted slightly and grabbed a bottle from the shelf.

“No… No… _not again!”_ Grace wailed wearily, wondering how the hell she had ended up on the receiving end of another orgasm when she had just been trying to tease Tom “I’m not gonna to be able to walk if you do that to me again!”

She knew it was wrong of her to complain. God, only days ago she would have done _anything_ to have been in this position, but it was barely 10am and she was already exhausted! 

Tom hummed “Oh my poor baby! I was only going to wash you! Get rid of that stink you were complaining about earlier…”

He chuckled light-heartedly.

Grace looked up at him doubtfully but deferred to his touch. The truth was she was so tired she wasn’t even sure she had the energy to open the bottle cap, let alone wash herself.

Tom quickly lathered up her hair, gently massaging shampoo into her scalp before covering her eyes as he rinsed it all clean. Next he moved on to her body, rubbing her body wash over her back and using his broad knuckles to knead her aching muscles before sliding his soapy hands down to her waist and turning her around so that her back faced his front. He leant her back against his chest and filled his hand with more body wash, gently stroking the fragrant bubbles up from her arms, over her breasts and pausing just long enough to brush his thumbs over her sensitive nipples, making her shudder and mutter a warning of _“Thomas!”_

“Sorry baby” Tom gulped, leaning his neck down onto her shoulder as he pressed her closer and traced the outline of her curves with his soapy hands, kneading and massaging her skin as he descended. Grace closed her eyes and succumbed to Tom’s gentle touch, a low moan of pleasure escaping her lips as he reached her hips.

“There… _see?_ Much better…” he purred into her ear “We’re almost done…”

Grace nodded dreamily, her body growing limp as he soothed away all her aches and pains.

“Mmm, just one more place…” Tom whispered just as his hands reached between her thighs and tenderly stroked her mound, reaching down further as he spread the cleansing bubbles.

Grace let out a groan from deep within her chest as one of his fingers lightly traced her folds and she involuntarily bucked against Tom’s body. It was only then that she realised the hard lump at the small of her back which she’d assumed was his hip bone was in fact twitching, and her eyes flew open, staring up into the apologetic yet hooded eyes of her insatiable lover.

Oh fuck!

_Here we go again…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by CKOne, the scent of the late 90's...
> 
> I swear there will be some plot in the next chapter!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Cos getting to know one another isn’t always like it is in the movies…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV and vaguely NSFW

 

Breakfast, or rather Elevenses, consisted of the ruined chocolate cake from the picnic. By the time they’d finished feeding it to one another they were a hot, sweaty mess again.

Tom had insisted that Grace sit on his lap, at first holding up small chunks of the sponge to each other’s mouths before Tom scooped up some of the ganache and spread it over his thin lips, only to dare Grace to lick it off.

Never one to shy away from a dare, especially when it involved chocolate and a sexy man, Grace rose to the challenge.

Unfortunately for Grace’s weary body, so did Tom.

Which is how she came to be spread-eagled on the rickety pull out table, legs dangling over Tom’s forearms as he once again pounded into her aching pussy. This time the pleasurable ache was definitely laced with pain and she was beginning to realise you actually _could_ get too much of a good thing. As her raw pussy traitorously responded by stretching around Tom’s cock, Grace knew she would have to talk to him, racking her brains as to how she was going to navigate _that_ conversation. After the turmoil they’d already been through, the last thing she wanted was to upset him or make him doubt her desire for him.

It was as she was pondering this very thing that Tom gave an extra hard thrust - apparently irritated that Grace seemed to be elsewhere when he was giving her some of his best moves - causing her to cry out, this time definitely more in pain than pleasure as her hands gripped Tom’s thighs, digging her nails in hard and scratching.

Tom yelped in pain, his right leg giving way as his right hand reflexively moved to steady himself, the resulting wobble and grapple for purchase causing him to pull at the table support.

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion.

The table gave way.

Grace’s body lunged forward.

Tom’s body fell backwards pulling Grace and the weakened wooden table leg with it.

The amorous lovers landed with a painful thump and altogether less rapturous moans than the ones they’d been sharing earlier.

It was only by some miracle that when Tom fell backwards, the pair’s intimate connection had been severed, otherwise Grace seriously thought she might have been impaled for eternity on Tom’s cock. However it did mean that it was practically Grace’s full weight which landed on the sensitive appendage and so Tom’s tears were real and abundant.

As he lay gasping for air, tears streaming down his pale face and pain coursing throughout his body he prayed he hadn’t broken his dick – _could you even break your dick?_ He also acknowledged the good fortune that Grace was only small.

_Grace…_

Oh fuck!

“Grace? Baby? Are you okay?” Tom gasped, frantically stroking back her dark mass of hair, which had spread out across his chest, and trying to get a good look at her reddened face.

For at least a minute she didn’t reply and Tom started to panic, until finally, accompanied by a low groan, came her shaking voice.

“Does that count as making the earth move?”

Tom realised then that her shaking was actually a result of her giggling hysterically and he couldn’t help but to snort with laughter at the ridiculousness of their situation.

His laughter was cut short however as he winced with pain “Ow! Shit… No idea but let’s not try that again in a hurry, eh?”

“Listen I’m not religious but even I think this is a warning from God!” Grace giggled again, her breathing becoming more regular as she grimaced, pushing herself up and off Tom’s still prone body with a low groan.

She looked down with concern at Tom’s angry red cock and frowned.

“Oh God… did… did I _squash_ it?”

Tom’s eyes followed Grace’s and he wrinkled his nose.

“ _Just a bit_ ”

Ever the gentleman Tom tried to downplay Grace’s part in his injury, tensing his groin and checking the little fellow was still alive. When his cock twitched painfully he actually sighed in relief.

Grace leant forward and gently unwrapped his fingers from the table leg he was still gripping tightly.

“I don’t think we’ll be needing that anymore!” she laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Shit! I broke your table!” Tom sighed, leaning his head back guiltily and banging it on the wooden floor in the process.

“Ow… fuck!”

“Come on big man, let’s try and get you up before you do yourself any more damage…” Grace giggled, leaning forward and holding out her hands to Tom’s.

Wanting to appear strong and manly after his embarrassing accident Tom attempted to get up without Grace, but as the pain surged through his groin and coccyx he willingly accepted her hand and clung to her as she stumbled under his weight to the sofa.

Dropping Tom down with a hiss of pain, Grace went into the kitchen and began rifling through her cupboards before returning with a tea towel and a bag of frozen carrots.

“Here…” she handed the makeshift ice pack to Tom.

He looked dubiously at it.

“You do want to use it again, don’t you?” Grace teased, nodding to his cock, and Tom quickly took the cold package from her and gingerly covered his groin.

“Fuck! That’s cold!” he winced, feeling the blood immediately drain from his dick.

“Kind of the point Thomas!” Grace rolled her eyes, but when she saw the tears forming in the corners of his eyes again her tone softened and she started to explain “I’m sorry. I was a bit sore… I didn’t mean to hurt you…” her voice trailed off as she looked down guiltily at the floor.

“I was _hurting_ you?” Tom gulped, trying to ignore the icy throb of his dick and concentrate on Grace’s words “Grace… baby? Look at me. What’s going on? When did I hurt you?”

“Oh Tom, it’s not your fault…” Grace finally looked up at him and she was crying “I… I… I should… I should have said something!” Her voice trembled and Tom reached out to her, unable to get up but urging her to come sit alongside him.

Grace slumped down next to him and Tom awkwardly pulled her closer, nervously searching her face.

This couldn’t be happening! Was she going to dump him… _again?_

“Grace?” he couldn’t disguise the fear in his own voice as he scanned her teary eyes.

“Oh Tom…” she sniffled “What we have is good. No, it’s better than good. It’s fucking amazing! But therein lies the problem…”

Tom’s brows drew together as he waited for her to continue.

“I… I can’t get enough of you, you see!” her flushed cheeks deepened and Tom’s eyebrows unknitted just a little. But he was still confused.

_If she couldn’t get enough of him then what was the problem?_

“I… I don’t understand?” Tom finally broke his silence “Isn’t it a good thing to want the other person?”

“ _Yes!_ Yes of course it is!” Grace nodded frantically then paused, trying to find some delicate way of explaining it “But… well… erm. Just imagine…erm… Oh yes! Imagine you love cake…”

Tom grinned and winked at her “I _do_ love cake! That’s what got us into this mess…”

Grace couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Okay, bad choice! Let me think…Right! Yes, imagine you like cheese, like really, _REALLY_ like cheese…”

“But I _do_ really like cheese Grace!” Tom licked his lips “Mmm, especially French cheeses. They do this great Roquef-”

“Bloody hell Thomas!” Grace threw her hands up in exasperation “Just _imagine_ … okay?”

Tom huffed petulantly but nodded, his brows knitting back together.

“Right… so you really, _really_ love cheese…” she paused and looked warningly at Tom in case he interrupted her again, but he was silent.

“But you haven’t really tried many varieties before and suddenly you’re eating the entire cheeseboard in one sitting. It all tastes so bloody wonderful and you can’t stop yourself, right? But then your stomach’s all swollen and it hurts like hell. And it’s all because you’ve eaten so damn much of the cheese…” her voice trailed off and her eyes flicked up to Tom’s as he looked at her in bewilderment.

“So… you don’t _like_ cheese?” Tom’s face was a picture of confusion as he frowned “I don’t… _I don’t get it_ _Grace?”_

Grace let out a strangulated groan of frustration and rolled her eyes “You’re supposed to be the fucking clever one Thomas!”

“Hey! Look, I’m sorry if I’m not getting your weird rant about cheese, okay?!” Tom threw his hands up as his heckles rose and he tried to move but was stopped by the throb of his still painful cock “I’m just not really firing on all cylinders at the moment Grace… probably on account of me being sat here with my dick on ice as you ramble on about bloody cheese…!”

Tom’s voice trailed off but then he looked up at her in complete perplexity “Anyway! I thought you _liked_ cheese? We had cheese sandwiches yesterday for fucks sake! You should have said something!”

Grace finally lost it.

“Urgh! _Thomas!_ It was just a bloody analogy!” she growled and Tom’s eyebrows rose almost to his forehead. With a deep sigh she mumbled “The cheese, is _sex,_ Tom! My bits…” she blushed furiously as she crossed her legs, suddenly extremely conscious that they were both still completely naked “Erm, well… my bits are sore from all the _sex_ …”

Tom’s mouth opened and closed, at long last in comprehension, and he raked one large hand through his unruly curls as he sighed, first with relief, but then with sadness and concern.

“Oh baby! Why didn’t you just tell me that?” Tom groaned “I’m such a total prat! I’m so sorry! Is it bad?”

Grace shrugged. “It’s okay…”

“No it’s not!” Tom gasped, pulling her towards him so that her head was resting against his chest as he gently stroked her hair. “I was so worried about my inexperience showing, and so eager to please you, and you were - you _are_ – so fucking sexy that I just let my dick takeover. Honestly. It’s got a mind of its own around you!” he mumbled in embarrassment.

Grace couldn’t help but to giggle at the truth of that. But then her giggles quickly turned to a peculiar bloom of pride as the reality of what he was saying truly dawned on her.

“Tom, here’s the thing. _My_ body takes over too, it’s why I can’t seem to say no! But that’s just the thing. Maybe we’re just going to _have_ to sometimes…?” she paused as she bit into her lip, her eyes falling to Tom’s lap where he was still holding the ice to his most delicate parts. She sighed at the realisation that if she’d just told Tom all of this half an hour ago he wouldn’t be nursing a bruised cock _and_ a slightly bruised ego.

She knelt up onto her own bruised knees and turned his head to hers, gently kissing away the sadness frozen onto his thin lips.

“If _either_ of us are sore, or tired, or aching, or I don’t know… just plain not in the mood, we need to tell the other, yeah?” Grace moaned against his lips, her eyes seeking out his as she trailed her tongue down to his jaw and nuzzled his neck.

“I guess so…” Tom moaned as her warm breath danced across his exposed neck and then down to his chest where she settled herself back down, nuzzling his nipple with the tip of her nose.

“I mean… it’s not like we can’t do other stuff, is it?” her warm breath taunted him and despite his injury he could feel the blood start to rush to one specific part of his body.

“Oh absolutely!” he groaned, reluctantly stilling her head.

Grace looked up at him, her eyes apologetic and he leant down, gently kissing her.

“I think, maybe we should get dressed…”

Grace nodded “I think you might be right!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. There's more 'cheese' still to come....


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Grace attempt a short period of abstinence to let their respective battle wounds recover...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV

 

For the next twenty four hours or so they took it easy. Grace continued to replenish Tom’s ice packs until the pain subsided while they snuggled up in bed and watching old movies. That evening she again watched on proudly as Tom performed on stage with only the slightest of limps.

When they returned to the flat they cuddled, giving their bodies more time to recover, and finding a new level of intimacy as they fought against their base desires.

The following day they ventured out, spending the morning at Edinburgh Castle and the afternoon wandering around the shops.

It was all so very domesticated.

That evening, Grace again accompanied Tom to the theatre, this time watching as the cast prepared for the performance and meeting some of Tom’s fellow actors. Once again Tom was a hit, the audience rising in rapturous applause to congratulate the entire cast, and as they walked arm in arm back up The Mound to Grace’s humble abode she stopped to tell him how proud she was of him.

Tom beamed from ear to ear and pulled her into a passionate embrace in the middle of the deserted road outside her flat. As things started to grow more heated - in more ways than one - they reluctantly pulled apart, having decided they would give Tom’s wounded cock and Grace’s wounded knees one more night to heal.

While it was pure torture not to just rip one another’s clothes off, to their credit they resisted temptation and instead snuggled in bed, taking turns to read aloud to one another the book of poetry that Tom had bought Grace for her birthday, before drifting off to sleep.

As they lay in bed the following morning, eyes still bleary as Grace’s head nestled against his chest, Tom made an announcement.

“I want to take you out. On a proper date. Maybe tonight? Dinner after the play?”

Grace heard the nervous hesitancy in his voice and worried her lip. He’d already done so much for her over the last couple of days, from organising the day trip for her birthday to cooking her breakfast every morning. Not to mention the hundred and one sweet little gestures that occurred throughout the day. It seemed too much to expect him to keep being this attentive.

They were okay now, _weren’t they?_

“You don’t have to do that Tom!” Grace’s eyes flicked up to his and she saw the determined set of his jaw.

“I know I don’t _have_ to Grace. I want to!”

His tone left noreason to object.

“Well… if you’re sure?” Grace hesitated and Tom sighed.

“Of course I’m sure! I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t, would I?” he chuckled then, leaning down and brushing his lips across her forehead. He could feel that tell-tale twitch in his groin as he felt her warm sigh of relief breeze over his bare nipple and groaned.

This self-proclaimed abstinence was becoming harder and harder to commit to.

_In more ways than one..._

“Right! How about you go get a shower while I fix us some breakfast?” Tom wriggled uncomfortably as he tried not to think about Grace's hot, naked body in the shower.

“Are you sure?” Grace stretched, her pink lips tracing Tom’s nipple and licking it suggestively.

“Uh… yeah. Go on, it’s fine…”

With a breathy sigh Grace reluctantly untangled herself and climbed out of bed, reaching for her robe and wrapping it around herself then looking back at Tom and giving him a coquettish wink.

“Maybe after wining and dining me tonight you could… erm… ravage me?” her voice was jokey but Tom didn’t miss the hint of uncertainty and nodded slowly, praying his old chap would be up to the challenge. Judging by his current state he had nothing to worry about.

Grace smiled and went for her shower, leaving Tom nursing a still slightly fragile hard on. With a determined mind to ignore it he climbed out of bed, pulling on some shorts and padded out into the kitchen to see what they could have for breakfast. The cupboards had been replenished after their shopping yesterday so there were several options. He set about making a fruit salad, seeing as Grace had liked the one he'd made on her birthday, and was just slicing the crusty loaf to make thick wedges of toast when the stack of magazines caught his eye.

Glancing back at the bathroom he figured he should have enough time for a quick study session.

His reading so far had proved invaluable. Pushing past the copies he’d already read he settled on an older copy of Cosmopolitan and carried it back into the kitchen with him, flicking through until he found a very interesting article entitled [**His G-Spot**](http://www.cosmopolitan.com/entertainment/celebs/g860/cosmo-cover-gallery/?slide=166). By the time he’d finished reading his eyebrows were almost touching his hairline, but he’d learnt all about G-Spots in both men _and_ women, and his cock was rock hard and raring to go.

“Not now dude!” he strapped the throbbing head under the elastic of his waistband with a slight grimace, hoping his unpredictable phallus would get the hint, and returned to the magazine, kissing the dog eared front cover in gratitude.

“What’cha doing?” Grace appeared from the bathroom just as Tom’s lips sunk to the glossy paper, her eyebrows raised as she stood with her hands on her hips.

Tom stuttered, his hands quickly falling as he attempted to hide the magazine behind his back.

Grace paced over to him, towel wrapped tightly around her slightly damp curves and tilted her head inquisitively before holding one hand out in a beckoning motion.

“Gimme!” she ordered and Tom sheepishly produced the magazine from behind his back.

Snatching it out of his hands her eyes immediately fell to the voluptuous Denise Richards adorning the cover and she rolled her eyes. The cover star was all boobs and teeth and pouty lips.

Ugh!

The complete opposite of her!

Grace’s hurt eyes looked up at Tom’s guilty ones and she threw it at him, marching off in a huff and slamming her bedroom door in his face.

Tom stood, holding the magazine in his hand and looking over the cover with confusion on his face. He knew why he’d tried to hide it. He couldn’t, however, fathom why Grace was so upset? Surely it was a _good_ thing he had been doing some research? After all, she hadn’t been complaining when he’d been _using_ his newly learnt skills, had she!

Not one to shy away from unresolved tension he dumped the magazine on the windowsill and knocked gently on the bedroom door.

“Go away!”

“Grace! You’re being childish! Let me explain!”

“Oh shut up and go find your perfect Miss America with her big fake tits and even bigger teeth and take _her_ out to dinner, why don’t you!”

Tom wrinkled his nose in annoyance and pushed the door open, ducking just in time to avoid the pillow thrown at his head.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Oh don’t give me all that innocent crap Thomas!” Grace hissed “I just fucking caught you in the act, kissing Miss Perky Tits U-S-of-A!”

“Woah… Woah… hang on a minute! What?” Tom held his hands up in confusion, his brow wrinkled as he tried to process Grace’s words. Stalking back into the lounge and grabbing the source of Grace’s fury Tom returned to the bedroom and stared down at the magazine cover.

“Oh lovely. Now you’re going to bring her in here and taunt me some more are you?!”

“Grace! You’re being completely irrational… I didn’t even look at the damn woman on the cover! I only have eyes for you!”

Grace rolled her eyes again and Tom’s own anger started to rise at her hypocrisy.

“Anyway, even if I was looking at whatshername - _which I fucking wasn’t_ – it’s only the same as me having to watch you fawn over Eddie-Fucking-Vedder all the time! Christ! I can’t even make breakfast without that cocky fucker’s face staring back at me from the fridge!”

“Uh... Now... now you’re just being ridiculous!” Grace stuttered, the truth of Tom’s words hitting her. She suddenly felt incredibly foolish, although still a tiny bit peeved that he’d resisted her attempts at some sort of intimacy that morning only to catch him in the kitchen kissing a photo of some woman who was the antithesis of her, _and with a hard-on!_

“But… you… erm, you were _excited_ …” Grace looked pointedly down at Tom’s now withered erection then back up in confusion.

Tom looked down at the magazine cover in his hands, seemingly contemplating something and then threw it down on the bed with a deep sigh.

“Look I was _actually_ reading the sex tips… _okay?_ ” He shrugged his shoulders in resignation, his cheeks beginning to burn as he muttered uncomfortably “It’s where I get most of my moves from Grace! I… I wasn’t quite straight with you back home…I erm, well… I haven’t done any of this before, okay?”

He shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, wanting the ground to swallow him up.

“What?!”

“I was a v-” Tom started to mumble, hurt that she was going to make him spell it out.

“No… not that…” her voice was softer now, closer.

Tom looked up, only to find Grace stood right in front of him, biting her lip as she raked her eyes up and down his body.

One hand reached up and she slid a single digit up from his navel to his sternum, causing Tom to shiver and his bare skin to break out in goosebumps.

“You did that? _For me..?”_ Grace purred.

“I'd do anything for you Grace! I… I just didn’t want to disappoint you-” Tom shivered again as her tongue retraced the invisible path her finger had just mapped out.

“I mean, just look at you! You’re so fucking gorgeous! And you know how to turn me on with just one look! I was worried…” Tom bit his lip as he considered his next words “well, if I’m being totally honest I was worried that you’d get bored of me again. Or think I was just some inexperienced kid…”

His voice trailed off as he saw the flicker of remorse in Grace’s eyes right before she sighed.

“That’s my fault. What I did to you? What I said that day? It was unforgivable…” she sniffed and Tom wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly into his body as he leant his chin on the top of her head and hummed “It’s okay. It’s forgotten.”

“I didn’t mean it, you know? I was just... scared” she gulped, traitorous tears streaming down her cheeks as she finally acknowledged just how close she’d come to losing this wonderful man from her life.

“I know. But Grace?” Tom pulled away, his hands on her shoulders as he looked lovingly down at her “You don’t have to be scared any longer, do you understand me? You’ve _always_ had me baby! And you’ve got me now, okay? I’m not going anywhere! I love you”

And with that heartfelt declaration, Grace’s lips were on Tom’s, her towel dropping to the floor as she showed Tom in her own way just how much he meant to her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I switched up the cover star for comedic effect (prizes to those who get it) but the G-Spot article was real! Got to love Cosmo right? ;)
> 
> Thanks as always for reading and commenting. <3


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom takes Grace out for dinner...
> 
> Dessert follows ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV
> 
> NSFW

Grace was just towelling off from her _second_ shower of the morning - having worked up quite a sweat showing Tom just how much he meant to her, _twice_ – when the phone call came.

Her colleague Emily at the bookshop was ill and Aileen, the owner, was ringing in desperation, asking Grace to work. With The Fringe in full swing their quirky little bookshop was particularly busy and poor Aileen simply couldn’t handle it on her own. Grace reluctantly agreed, but only on the proviso that she got her usual Saturday shift off, meaning she had the entire weekend free with Tom before he had to leave.

Her stomach sank at that thought, but she forced herself to push it aside as she tried to concentrate on the here and now.

They had planned to take in a little of The Fringe that day, and while that was tempting, in her heart of hearts Grace knew she had made the right decision with the weekend fast approaching.

Tom, on the other hand, had looked more than a little peeved when Grace had first told him, but when she had explained that she would now be free all day Saturday and suggested to him that being apart for the day could even make their ‘date’ more exciting he’d suddenly got a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

_It had taken all Grace’s resolve not to drag the towel precariously draped around his slim hips off him and have her way with him for a third time…_

As if telepathic, Tom dressed quickly, returning to the lounge just in time for Grace to be finishing the last bite of her toast.

“I want to come with you!” he declared, sounding almost childlike in his insistence. Grace rolled her eyes but laughed, and suggested that if he was  _really_  interested in looking around the shop he could come for an hour, but that he couldn’t distract her from her job.

Tom had nodded eagerly, the puppy dog expression reappearing, and the decision was made. Tom would come for a quick browse around the shop and then would leave her to work while he checked out The Fringe and found something good for them to watch together at the weekend.

_That was the plan of course…_

But after two and a half hours of Tom following her around like a lapdog, and the shop filling up with _actual_ customers she’d reluctantly had to kick him out, standing on her tiptoes just outside the shop window and kissing him soundly on the lips before slapping his firm ass as he’d turned on the puppy dog eyes again as she made her way back through the doorway.

“Be off with you Thomas, before I decide to punish you later!”

Tom groaned at her teasing tone - that mischievous twinkle in his eyes reappearing – but finally left. That is, once he’d kissed her soundly back, and growled cryptically into her ear “Do your worst…!"

Grace gasped as he walked away, that cocky strut of his even more pronounced as he left her feeling distinctly worked up, with another five and a half hours of work ahead of her.

“Well, well, well Grace!” Aileen had winked at her as Grace had turned back into the shop, a deep sigh escaping her lungs as she realised she already missed Tom.

“Wherever did you meet such a charming young man?”

Grace’s eyebrows shot up, praying Aileen hadn’t heard their heated little exchange, her cheeks beginning to redden.

“Oh… erm… I already told you! He’s… erm just a family friend…from back home” she blustered, and Aileen chuckled knowingly as Grace rushed past her and went back to cataloguing the new inventory of books.

She couldn’t, however, get that teasing conversation with Tom out of her mind and Grace began to concoct a wicked plan, using her lunch hour to call into the exclusive little boutique she was usually only fond of window shopping in. When she returned to work, Aileen raised an eyebrow at the bag Grace tried to hide but to her credit the older woman said nothing.

That afternoon Grace distracted herself from the ache between her thighs with more cataloguing. She couldn’t wait to see Tom again, and she had a feeling that when he saw what she’d bought at lunchtime he’d know better than to try to tease _her_ …

At last it was time to close up and Grace dashed home to change for her ‘date’. She made it to the theatre just in time for the opening curtain so there was no time to see Tom before the performance, but – as she reminded herself – they’d waited this long, they could wait a couple more hours!

After the performance she lingered in the lobby as arranged. When Tom arrived he was freshly showered, his curls still wet and slicked back off his face. He was dressed in his smart navy trousers and white dress shirt, the top two buttons unfastened, presumably because of the ubiquitously stifling summer heat.

Tom licked his lips as his gaze roamed over Grace’s body in the mid-thigh length strapless little black dress and four inch stiletto heels, and his eyes literally bulged as they settled on her newly acquired – and impressive, _if she did say so herself_ – cleavage, causing her to shiver with excitement. She could see Tom mentally undressing her and congratulated herself on the first stage of her plan.

_So far, so good…_

“You look…” Tom’s eyes raked up and down her body again as his long fingers entwined in Grace’s, pulling her towards him, an almost desperate look in his eyes “Fucking hot as sin baby!”

He moved to kiss her but Grace gently pushed him away, much to Tom’s chagrin.

“Thank you Thomas” she demurred gently “You too look very handsome tonight but shouldn’t we get to know one another a little better on our ‘date’ before we take things any further?”

Tom’s eyebrow shot up in surprise as he began to understand Grace’s wicked game, but to his credit he recovered quickly, and began to play along.

“Ah, indeed you are - _as always_ \- right mi ’lady!” he smiled, bowing gallantly as he again offered Grace his hand, this time from a respectable distance.

“Shall we?”

Grace giggled and took Tom’s hand as they made their way outside and to the restaurant, Tom asking her about her day at work and Grace asking him about The Fringe. They chatted innocently, but the undercurrent of sexual tension as they resisted anything more intimate than a heated glance towards the other heightened the excitement of things to come.

Tom had decided on the same restaurant they’d dined in on his opening night, partly out of sheer convenience given its proximity to both the theatre and Grace’s flat, but also because of the menu, both of them craving steak.

However with everything happening so quickly between herself and Tom, and her decidedly hazy memory of the restaurant, Grace had completely forgotten all about the flirty waitress until they had been shown to their seats.

"Ah yes!” the memory suddenly came flashing back to Grace as she caught the young woman in the corner, staring at Tom’s arse as he moved to sit down. A small grin teased at her lips as she decided on a completely new plan for inside the restaurant.

“Oh look... If it isn't your little admirer Thomas" Grace purred into his ear - having elected to sit alongside, rather than opposite him - just as the waitress returned with their menus, her eyebrow arching as she watched Grace and Tom’s somewhat less formal interaction compared with a few nights ago.

Not that it stopped the waitress from setting her sights once again on Tom.

_Oh no…_

The young woman was nothing if not resourceful in her reasons for having to return to the table. Did they want any bread while they waited for their meals? Was the temperature of the air conditioning to Tom’s satisfaction? – _Grace apparently could freeze to death for all the waitress cared._ Did they need any top ups on their drinks…?

Each time the waitress would approach, Grace – who was perfectly positioned to see her - would slide her hand further up Tom’s thigh and lightly dance her fingertips over his quads. Tom groaned each and every time, his body warring with his brain as he fought between wanting Grace to stop tormenting him and wanting her to get his thickening cock out right then and there under the damn table!

And all the while Grace kept an enigmatic smile plastered across her face, ignoring Tom’s wriggling and almost pained gasp of “ _No!_ We _just_ want our meals!” to the now suspicious – _and definitely irritated_ – waitress as she yet again approached, this time asking if they wanted some water for the table, just as Grace’s hand finally reached Tom’s hard length and she rubbed her knuckles across his cock head through the straining fabric.

"I swear to God Grace! If you don't stop tormenting me I will drag you into the loos and fuck you right now!” Tom growled into her ear as the waitress flounced off in annoyance.

"Ooh. Promises, promises Thomas!" Grace licked her scarlet painted lips and ran her hand back up Tom’s thigh, the wicked grin returning to her mouth.

 _"Stop it!"_ Tom hissed, his cheeks now matching Grace’s lips as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.

Grace pouted, but inside she was grinning from ear to ear as Tom’s cock - rock hard under her wandering hand – twitched as his eyes betrayed his own lascivious intent. He was staring down at her cleavage again from his lofty vantage point, licking his lips as if what was hidden beneath her dress was all he was interested in dining on tonight.

That thought made Grace wriggle in her seat and Tom chuckled, suddenly aware that he too could play Grace’s little game if he wanted to.

The question was, did he _really_ want to?

There was something frankly exhilarating about watching Grace work at seducing him. She didn’t _need_ to of course. He was just as turned on when she wore a simple T-shirt and shorts and sat around the flat reading.

But Grace had clearly wanted to make an effort.

_That was reassuring._

Not that he really needed any reassurance now either. Even though she hadn’t returned his heartfelt declaration earlier, he was finally certain that they were on the same wavelength. She’d shown him through more than words, and that was more than enough.

_For now…_

It was more than just a physical attraction between them now, – although by God _that_ was electric – they seemed to finally understand one another and could just be themselves, and that was something Tom couldn’t get enough of.

_Well, that and Grace’s tits!_

Jesus, whatever she had done with them tonight they seemed to have doubled in size! Not that he had a problem with their size before – _they were a perfect handful_ – but now they were practically touching her chin!

He licked his lips again, wondering if he could get away with just shoving his face between the pale golden globes right there in the restaurant, his cock twitching impatiently under Grace’s enticing hand, but was interrupted from his reverie by the return – _again_ \- of the waitress.

Tom sighed but attempted to smile in gratitude as she set down his plate. However, when she actually slammed Grace’s plate down, causing a cascade of petit pois to roll across the table and into her lap, he stiffened in an altogether different way.

“Excuse me? Do you have a problem?” Tom enquired, his jaw set in a mixture of annoyance at the rude woman and stifled anticipation as Grace’s hand slipped down between his splayed legs and cupped his balls.

“What? Oh, erm… I’m sorry! It slipped…” the waitress demurred with a mask of innocence on her reddening face.

“It’s not me you need to apologise to!” Tom’s voice came out higher than he would have liked, on account of Grace’s wandering hand, but he continued nonetheless “Apologise to my girlfriend!”

Grace’s hand suddenly stopped and Tom looked over just in time to see the small smile she’d had plastered to her face since they’d sat down break out into a huge grin, and his heart melted even more.

The waitress visibly grimaced and spat out a petulant “Sorry!” before flouncing off, her ears burning as Tom shouted after her “and don’t bloody bother coming back!”

Turning back towards Grace he pulled her hand away from between his thighs with a reluctant sigh and leant into her ear.

“Eat up woman! I already know what’s on the menu for dessert” Tom growled, licking his lips as his hungry eyes wandered down to Grace’s now heaving chest then back up to her own lustful stare “and you’re going to need all the energy you can get!”

Grace gulped, her earlier bravado all but evaporating under Tom’s intense gaze.

Not for the first time her heart fluttered as he so easily categorised their relationship. He was so sure of everything. Earlier he had told her he loved her - there had been no uncertainty in his declaration - and now he’d called her his girlfriend. Things were moving at breakneck speed and she found herself heading towards panic mode until Tom’s hand gently slid across the table and squeezed her own shaking one, his eyes reassuring her that nothing – _and yet somehow everything_ – had changed in the last twenty four hours.

They ate in near silence, savouring their food, and with no more interruptions. It seemed the waitress had taken Tom at his word and when it came time for their plates to be cleared, a different waitress appeared.

“Can I get you the dessert menu?” the older woman asked, smiling down at the young couple.

Grace’s hand had slipped back down under the table as soon as she had finished her meal and Tom had to bite back another groan as it returned to his crotch, those damn knuckles pressing a line along his revitalised erection.

“Ugh… no… no just the bill… _please!_ ” Tom gasped urgently and the waitress nodded with a knowing smirk and a wink at Grace.

Tom gritted his teeth, stifling his moans until the woman was out of earshot, before turning to Grace.

“Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

Grace giggled wickedly, biting her lip and nodding slowly _“Maybe…?”_

He growled in response, his eyes wandering back down to her tantalising cleavage before returning to fix her with a heated gaze - one hand reaching under the table about to reciprocate her teasing touch - when the waitress interrupted their mutual eye fuck.

Tom hastily paid the bill, ignoring Grace’s offer to pay her half and instead grabbing her hand away from his crotch as he practically dragged her out of her seat.

Tom positioned Grace in front of him as they walked towards the door, hoping to hide his obvious erection, but when they reached the door chivalry usurped his embarrassment. He stepped out in front of Grace and held the door open wide, flourishing his hand to indicate for her to pass him.

As she did so, Grace intentionally rubbed against his aching cock then wiggled her hips as she stepped out onto the pavement.

Tom groaned and released the door, moving quickly back behind her and slapping her arse hard.

"That's for being such a fucking cock tease in there!" He growled into her ear, relishing the shudder that passed over her body at the kiss of his hot breath against her bare neck.

But the damned incorrigible woman recovered quickly and she just looked over her shoulder and sniggered, wiggling her hips even more as she gingerly stepped across the cobbled pavement in her heels.

Tom grabbed hold of her arm - in spite of his growing frustration - concern for her safety in her sky high heels winning through, and Grace gratefully accepted it until they were almost at the top of The Mound.

As she broke free of Tom’s grasp she looked over her shoulder at him again and licked her lips coquettishly as she wiggled her bum and continued to walk unsteadily up the steep street towards her front door.

“Grace!” Tom groaned “Be careful walking in those damn heels woman, we’ve had enough accidents in the pursuit of pleasure!”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me Mister!” Grace giggled before purring “I’m practiced in climbing The Mound and I have a little treat in store for _you_ tonight Thomas!”

Tom lunged for her, pinning her up against the door and growled in her ear “ _Enough!_ This was supposed to have been a romantic date and _you_ … you wanton little minx have been teasing me all fucking night! You know what? I’m gonna climb your _‘Mound’_ once I get you inside that bloody flat!”

“Oh my God! How long have you been working on that?” Grace spluttered with laughter at Tom’s play on words.

Tom coughed in a mixture of embarrassment and laughter as a chuckle escaped his pursed lips “Erm… longer than I care to admit!”

Their laughter momentarily distracted the couple from the brewing sexual tension but then Grace pushed Tom back and turned, slipping her key into the front door.

"First one to my bed gets to fuck the other however they choose!" Grace giggled and ran for the stairs, fighting off Tom’s advances as she pulled off her heels and charged up the first flight.

Having learnt nothing from this same race only days earlier Tom soon caught her up, only to be hindered once again by his _third_ _leg_ rubbing painfully against the fabric of his trousers.

Yet somehow he managed to silence the ache, _and_ ignore the temptation to just stare transfixed as Grace’s short dress rose steadily higher up her toned thighs with every flight of stairs, and he was the one to reach the door to the flat first.

With shaky hands, and pumped full of adrenaline Tom shoved his key in the door and ran towards the bedroom, licking his lips at the prospect of finally sinking his face in between Grace's voluptuous cleavage before sinking his cock somewhere equally welcoming.

However, In Tom’s haste, he tripped on the chair leg at the entrance to Grace’s bedroom and landed with a pained "oof" on the hard wooden floor just short of the bed.

Lying face down and spread-eagled, his cock somehow miraculously spared the brunt of his fall, Tom heard the slow click-clack of high heels and rolled over onto his back with a pained wheeze.

“Oh dear me... Would you just look at that?” Grace gloated as she reached Tom, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a victorious smirk and resting her heeled foot on Tom’s crotch in triumph.

Tom groaned as she slowly trailed the tip of the stiletto heel teasingly along the outline of his cock, it once again thickening after its temporary deflation in the fall.

“Jesus Grace!” Tom gulped, leaning up on his elbows as he watched, transfixed as Grace slowly rose to her feet and circled him.

“Don’t move!” she warned as she stretched across to her small stereo and flicked the switch. Tom’s eyebrows raised when the opening chords of [Lovesong](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ks_qOI0lzho) filled the room.

_Clearly Grace had been planning this..._

Well, far be it from him to ruin a lady’s plans!

His breathing increased as Grace returned to stand above him, straddling his head in those damn sexy black stilettos and looking down with trouble sparkling in her eyes.

Tom licked his lips in response as he realised he could see right up the skirt of her dress and had to stifle a moan when she began to slowly move her hips, albeit slightly out of sync with the music.

“Well, this wasn’t _quite_ the position I envisioned having you in when I planned this, but I guess it’s as good a place as any to start…” she winked down at him and slid her hands down over her hips, teasing the hem of her dress as she watched Tom’s transfixed expression.

Tom stared up in awe as Grace’s fingers dragged the tight fabric up, inch by tantalising inch until her sapphire blue silk covered mound was revealed.

He moaned as he spotted the already obvious damp patch between her thighs and, unable to stop himself, his hands slid up her thighs, desperate to pull her musky centre closer to his ravenous lips.

Grace swayed on her heels and batted Tom’s hands away in irritation. She looked him square in the eyes and warned him.

“Thomas! Touch me again before I say so and it’ll be just you and your hand tonight!”

Tom quirked his eyebrow but submitted, nodding his head in compliance.

“Get up!” she unexpectedly instructed, moving aside to allow Tom to stand back upright. He knew he was pushing his luck, given the instruction she’d uttered only moments earlier but he stood as close to her as he possibly could without actually touching her, enjoying the view of her heaving breasts as she clearly grew flustered under his intense gaze.

Perhaps he’d paid a little _too_ much attention to her tits, because next thing he knew Grace had shoved him down onto the bed so that he was sat on the edge. Now those distracting tits were right in his eye-line and he had to force himself to look up, lest he find himself in an even _more_ compromising position.

Grace stepped between Tom’s splayed thighs and continued to sway her hips, dancing to her own rhythm as she twisted and turned. He watched with bated breath as her hands unhurriedly coaxed down the side zipper of her dress and slowly peeled the black fabric away to reveal a sapphire blue corset to match her panties.  

“Fuck!” Tom moaned loudly, his eyes on stalks as she leant closer, her breasts threatening to spill out of their confines as she thrust them in his face. Tom darted his tongue out but she was too quick and pulled away, shaking her finger and chastising him.

“Ah ah ah! What did I say Thomas?”

“Sorry!” he gasped, his cock now rock hard and desperate to be freed from his constricting trousers.

He made a vow then and there _never_ to wear such tight fitting trousers ever again…  Or at the very least not around this maddeningly sexy little minx!

“I should really punish you for that you know?” Grace purred and Tom wondered what on earth she could possibly do that could be more of a punishment than flaunting her juicy tits just out of his reach.

He would soon come to regret that thought as she pushed his splayed legs closer together and straddled him, pressing her silken mound against the tight bulge in his trousers as she began to unbutton his shirt. Tom began to sweat under her heated gaze, sucking in a breath as her small hands worked diligently on his buttons, before sliding the damp cotton back over his shoulders.

Once freed from his shirt, Tom fisted his hands by his side and gripped the duvet, desperate to avoid doing _anything_ that would cause her to stop whatever plans she had for him. She hummed along to the opening strains of [Fade Into You](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mazzystar/fadeintoyou.html) as she pressed her silk enrobed breasts against his bare and erect nipples, continuing to grind her now wet crotch against his aching cock.

Tom growled at the exquisite friction and desperately tried to be patient, but when Grace bucked her hips and arched her back, causing a pert pink nipple to pop free from its silky confinement, he lost control.

Faster than Grace could even mouth _“Thomas!”_ in chastisement, he’d rolled them both over and had his hungry lips fixed tightly around that errant nipple, sucking and laving it as if his life depended on it.

Meanwhile his hands gripped hers, stopping her from fighting against his lustful touch. If Grace was angry she soon acquiesced, her body visibly relaxing under his talented tongue.

Finally pulling his mouth away, in doing so dragging the edge of his teeth across the sensitive bud, Grace was awash with a stuttering shiver as Tom looked down at her with dark eyes, and the aura of a man about to devour her.

She visibly squirmed and Tom laughed wickedly.

Tom released one hand and rubbed the pronounced knobbles of his knuckles over her clothed but now sodden pussy, a direct reciprocation of Grace’s earlier taunt in the restaurant.

 _"Oh Fuck!_ Tom!" she moaned, her own freed hand instinctively moving to her escaped nipple, tweaking it as Tom stared down at her through lust filled eyes and continued to tease her.

"Not so much fun when the shoe's on the other foot now, is it baby?" Tom growled into her ear, licking a stripe down from her ear lobe to the column of her neck before moving further down and releasing her other nipple from its silky prison.

 _“Fuck!”_ she hissed again as he teased and taunted her, flicking that talented tongue around her achingly hard nipples and alternating between sucking and lapping until she thought she was actually going to come just from his mouth alone.

Tom had long since stopped touching her pussy, in fact she had no idea _where_ his hands even were, so distracting were his lips and devious tongue.

So when Grace was rolled again, it came as quite a surprise as she once more found herself straddling Tom, to discover him completely naked underneath her, his rock hard cock rubbing against the now sodden silk barrier.

“Oh God…” Grace groaned as Tom’s fingers slipped under the edges of her panties and ripped them off with a growl.

She let out a gasp of shock and started to complain that they were new until Tom threw his head back and laughed, promising to buy her ten pairs if she’d only shut up and let him fuck her.

Lifting her off his lap he bent her over the bed, face down as he stroked the silky soft globes of her ass. Grace was already making little whimpering sounds and they shot straight to his cock.

“So, my naughty little girl…” Tom growled as he stroked the tip of his cock along Grace’s sopping folds, coating his cockhead in her arousal “You think it’s okay to tease me like that? _Do you?”_

Grace half moaned, half giggled.

Tom slapped her ass and she squirmed.

“Erm… no!” she gasped, the sting from his huge hand sending shock waves right to her throbbing pussy.

“Yeah. It’s not okay… bad girls need to be taught a lesson, don’t they?” Tom hissed, almost losing his nerve and any concentration as he saw her slick slit glistening up at him in invitation.

_Christ. He’d missed that!_

He knew it was ridiculous. _Fifteen hours…_ That’s all it had been!

And yet suddenly he couldn’t wait even one more second.

Tom kicked her feet wider apart with a growl.

“Keep still. You don’t _speak_ , you don’t _move_ unless I say so. _Okay?”_

“Just fucking do it!” Grace moaned, unable to stifle a giggle of excitement.

_She liked this Tom!_

Tom pinned Grace to the bed, his hands covering hers as he slowly pushed his length into her tight, wet hole.

 _“I said…_ don’t speak!” Tom grunted as he pushed deep, Grace’s stifled groan like music to his ears.

But then just as suddenly he was gone, withdrawing from her aching pussy. Grace’s lip trembled from the loss but when she was suddenly manhandled up onto the bed, her ass lifted high in the air as she was positioned on all fours, she tensed.

Tom climbed up behind her, dick still slick with her arousal as he languidly stroked it along her entrance until she was practically begging to be fucked.

"I did warn you my darling. You're not the only one who can tease…” Tom growled, forgetting his rules for her already as he continued to rub his cock along her pussy.

“Do you want this?”

“ _Yes!_ F… fuck… Yes!” Grace moaned, her pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Tell me! Tell me how much you want my cock baby” Tom grunted, beads of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead as he watched, almost mesmerised as Grace’s pussy visibly twitched “Tell me how much you _need_ my fat dick!"

Unable to formulate words, Grace groaned, pushing back in desperate hope of impaling herself but Tom was too quick.

 _“Tell me!”_ he hissed again, one hand reaching between Grace’s shaking thighs and rubbing her clit as he continued to taunt her with just the head of his cock.

“Oh… God! Ugh… _Yes!_ Fuck me… Fuck me _please_ … _Tom… Please!”_

Tears of frustration were falling freely from Grace’s eyes now but they quickly changed to tears of ecstasy as Tom finally pushed between her sopping folds, only to find her positively drenched.

They both groaned as Tom bottomed out, but buoyed on by Grace’s moans of shocked pleasure, he barely gave her body time to adjust before he started to pound her aching cunt with a force unbeknownst to either of them up until that point.

The room was soon filled with the sound of slick squelching as their dripping bodies slapped against one another and combined with their impassioned groans of pleasure.

Grunting and thrusting, Tom slammed his cock harder into Grace. He couldn’t stop now even if he tried. Grace began to roll her hips in time to meet Tom’s thrusts and when he hit that secret spot deep inside her, just as his heavy testicles slapped at her pussy lips and his thumb rubbed at her clit, it was enough to send Grace stratospheric with her moans.

Everything faded around her but Tom. The way his cock stretched her, the weight of his body, the sweat dripping down from his fevered brow onto her back, and the warm breath as he panted at her neck.

It was _so_ good.

 _It was too good_ …

“Oh… My… G… God…!” Grace gasped.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. With one final roll of her hips she was coming around Tom's cock, soaking him in her juices as his frenetic thrusts continued until finally, he shuddered to his own climactic release.

“Fuck! Grace… _Jesus!”_

Tom sagged, leaning his sweaty brow against Grace’s lower back as he gasped for air before reluctantly withdrawing his spent cock and collapsing alongside her in a sweat soaked heap on the bed.

The pair lay in an exhausted but euphoric daze until Grace finally turned back towards Tom, who was already groaning as he stared down through hooded eyes at her heaving breasts, them having now completely escaped the constraints of the corset.  

She tried to stifle a giggle but Tom heard it and narrowed his eyes.

“Christ woman!” he growled, rolling her onto her back and straddling her again as he dipped his mouth once more to her taut nipples “Didn’t I just show you what happens to naughty girls who tease?!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your patience! <3


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With pleasure comes pain...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV ~ Grace and Tom

Tom was minding his own business, suckling at one of Grace’s breasts when the phone rang.

"Mmph... leave it" he groaned against her nipple but Grace reluctantly pushed him away with a sigh as she climbed out of bed mumbling something about it being late and that it might be important. She padded naked, save for the half unfastened corset, into the lounge and retrieved the phone as Tom watched on, admiring the sway of her hips and the gentle curve of her back in spite of his disappointment at their interruption.

When Grace returned with the phone, sinking back down onto the edge of the bed, Tom crawled up behind her and kneeled with his thighs splayed either side of her as he pressed his naked torso against her back, fumbling with the last couple of fastening on the corset as his tongue traced the soft flesh at the base of her neck.

Grace swatted him away irritatedly as she laughed and joked with the person on the other end of the phone.

Annoyed, Tom tried again, this time rubbing his reinvigorated cock against the dimples at the small of Grace’s back, his hand wandering down to the apex of her thighs.

“Just a minute Sarah!” Grace huffed and moved out of Tom’s reach, standing and turning to give him a disapproving look as she spoke into the receiver “What? Oh nothing. Just your idiot brother trying to distract me by tickling me!” she lied and Tom’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, mmm hmm… No, he’s been fine really… Ha ha… Well he _is_ house trained Sarah!” Grace giggled, winking at Tom who just stared back, his lips now set into a tight line as he listened to Grace talking to his sister as if he was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Right. Okay then… What? You want to speak to Tom? Hang on a minute, I’ll go get him…” she _again_ lied, and Tom watched in bewilderment as Grace proceeded to walk over to the bedroom door and call out his name before walking _back_ over to her bed - _the very bed he was currently sat on, stark bollock naked, post-coital and still covered in their combined arousal_ \- and blew kisses down the phone “Love ya, Bye!” before holding it out to Tom.

Tom snatched the phone from Grace’s hand, prompting a raised eyebrow as she looked at him in obvious puzzlement.

“What?” Tom’s voice was gruff, irritated as he spoke into the receiver and Sarah began apologising “Shit, sorry! Did I wake you? Grace didn’t say you were sleeping. Has the play been hard going?”

“Oh yes…” Tom’s eyes flicked up to Grace’s as he sighed “It’s been hard work alright… I thought I finally knew where I stood, but… well… I guess you never know eh?” he mumbled cryptically.

Grace came and sat alongside him, attempting to stroke some of the tension out of his now tensed back but Tom shrugged her off and stood, pacing back and forth and avoiding her confused eyes as he made small talk. When Sarah told him she was passing the phone over to his mum Tom finally became conscious of his state of undress and quickly pulled on his boxers, wandering out into the lounge and pulling the blanket over himself as Diana asked if he was nervous about getting his exam results in the morning.

Tom froze, realising that in less than eleven hours he would know if he’d gotten into Cambridge, the university he’d long dreamt of attending. He’d been so consumed with Grace over the last few days he’d clean forgotten!

His heart started to pound in his chest and his palms grew sweaty, both in excitement and apprehension. The reality was, everything had changed over the past week. If he got the grades he was expected to achieve he would be moving nearer to Grace, albeit by about twelve miles! But given her total dismissal of him only minutes earlier to Sarah would it even matter?

What _was_ he exactly?

Her dirty little secret? Or worse, her rebound?

All of a sudden it occurred to Tom that they hadn’t really spoken of what would happen at the end of the week when he returned first to Oxford and then, hopefully to Cambridge…

Would she even want to continue this… this… _whatever the fuck this even was?!_

Grace’s total lack of verbal acknowledgement of her feelings towards him then began to torment Tom as it suddenly hit him that she had effortlessly expressed her love for Sarah down the phone, and yet she hadn’t even been able to utter it even once to him.

He’d let her introduction of him to her boss as her 'house guest and family friend' go earlier, not wanting to believe that it had really meant anything. After all, he knew she was a private person, especially up here in Edinburgh.

But now, given her obvious act of pretending he was nothing more than an inconvenience, he began to doubt everything.

“Tom? Sweetheart, are you still there?”

The voice of his mother down his ear snapped him out of his doubting thoughts momentarily and he lied, pretending he was just knackered after another exhausting performance. It wasn’t altogether untrue of course, he _was_ exhausted after being on stage, running up seven flights of stairs and then fucking Grace like a man possessed. He sighed at the memory, tears betraying his anger as he said goodnight and arranged for his mum to ring him in the morning as soon as the letter with his results arrived.

Tom placed the phone back on its charger and stared into space in the darkened room, the only light coming from the open door of the bedroom.

“Coming back to bed?”

Grace’s hesitant voice cut through his thoughts and he swiped at the tears forming in his eyes and looked up. She was stood in the doorway of her bedroom, still radiant in her nakedness and illuminated from behind like some ethereal deity.

Tom thought she had never looked more beautiful and yet, all of a sudden, less attainable.

He gulped back a sob as his eyes caressed her body, committing every feminine curve, every delicate feature to memory in case this was the last time his eyes would be able to feast on them.

Wordlessly he rose and walked over towards her, yet slipping past her when she moved towards him.

“What’s the matter Tom?” she questioned, her eyes hurt as he avoided her touch, crossing instead to the far side of the bed and climbing under the covers, turning his back to her.

“Nothing…” Tom sighed “It’s just late. We’d better get some sleep.”

Grace stood watching him as he lay perfectly still, her eyebrows drawing together in distressed uncertainty as he hugged the very edge of the bed, leaving a chasm of emptiness in the centre.

“I guess so…” she sighed hesitantly, needing to use the bathroom.

As she reached the door she thought she heard a sniffle and froze, listening intently for more concrete evidence that Tom was upset about something. She had no idea what Tom and his mother had discussed, but whatever it was he was now in a peculiar mood and it unsettled her.

When no further evidence presented itself Grace made her way into the bathroom, telling herself that he would talk to her in his own time. She quickly used the toilet, washed off her makeup and cleaned her teeth.

When she returned to the bedroom Tom was still lying right at the edge of the bed and so she flicked off the bedside lamp before slipping under the covers, moving over to join him.

Wrapping her warms arms around his rigid body she felt him physically bristle and pulled away, a sense of dread beginning to spread throughout her body.

Grace turned and flicked the bedside lamp back on and sat upright, looking down at the tensed muscles in Tom’s back with increasing concern.

“Right, you’re clearly _not_  okay Tom! What’s happened? _Please_ … _Tell me!”_ Grace’s voice shook as she finally broke her silence, panic beginning to rise in her chest before she abruptly whispered “Oh God! Has something happened to your father?”

Tom huffed and Grace watched his back muscles clench before he rolled over and looked up at her, his eyes wet with tears.

“Oh Tom! What is it?” she reached out to him but he pulled away from her touch.

This time it was Grace’s turn to look hurt as tears began to form in her eyes.

“Tom?”

“You _really_ have no idea, do you?” Tom suddenly hissed, his voice full of bitterness.

Grace reached for him again, confusion and fear playing on her delicate features as he sighed and climbed out of bed and started to pace back and forth again, one hand rubbing angrily at his tear stained face.

“Who the fuck am I to you?” he finally spat out, making Grace jump and look up at him in bewilderment.

“You’re… you’re Tom! You’re my wonderful, loving Thomas…” Grace’s voice trailed off as Tom narrowed his eyes again at her and shook his head in what looked like resignation.

She sniffed back the tears as she tried again “Tom? _What_ is going on? I don’t understand. We were fine earlier? What’s suddenly changed?”

“Nothing…” he grumbled cryptically, shaking his head “Abso–fucking-lutely nothing has changed, has it Grace? I’m still just dumb, stupid, annoying _Thomas_ to you really, aren’t I? The idiot kid brother you and Sarah always laughed about…” Tom’s voice grew louder as he stopped at the foot of the bed and looked down at Grace in disgust “Oh, but at least I’m bloody house trained right? We wouldn’t want me pissing the bed or anything, would we now?!”

With that Tom stormed out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Grace sat in the bed, dazed, confused and more than a little upset as she replayed Tom’s angry rant, picking up on the words she herself had used – _completely in jest_ – to Sarah earlier as she’d joked about her house guest. It had never occurred to her that Tom would be so sensitive all of a sudden.

She climbed out of the bed, the spectre of nerves sending a chill throughout her body and searched around for something to cover her nakedness.

One of Tom’s clean check shirts was spread over the back of the still upended chair which Tom had tripped over earlier. A knot tightened in Grace’s stomach as she tried to process how quickly their night had shifted from one of wanton passion to hurt betrayal and she began to realise just how significant a part she’d played in it.

Straightening the chair, with shaking hands Grace pulled on Tom’s shirt, pausing to inhale his lingering scent imbedded into the fibres. The knot tightened a little more as she walked towards the still closed bathroom door and tapped gingerly on the wood.

“J… j… just a minute” Tom’s broken voice came from the other side of the door and Grace slumped down on the floor, resting her head against the cool wood as her tears began to fall in earnest.

“I… I’m sorry Tom… I… I… I didn’t mean it. I was just being silly… Old habits, y’know?” she managed to stutter out, placing one hand, palm flat against the wood and praying Tom believed her. She closed her eyes and waited, listening at the door.

Inside there was a sniffle and a muffled cough, followed by the sound of the toilet flushing and then running water.

Grace’s heart was pounding loudly in her chest as she continued to wait. The sound of running water stopped, then she heard Tom blowing his nose and suddenly the door opened, causing Grace to fall forward with a gasp at his feet.

He stood above her, looking down at her slumped body in confusion, his eyes red rimmed and still filled with hurt betrayal. Grace quickly righted herself and stood in front of him, fighting back her own tears as she noticed how his shoulders were slumped, almost in defeat.

“Tom…” she tentatively held out her hand, her shaking, sweaty fingers wrapping around his cool hand, relieved when he didn’t immediately pull away. Yet he didn’t move to reciprocate her touch either.

Instead Tom stood, motionless, looking down at her as if he was expecting her to deliver yet another killer blow to his confidence.

Or worse, his heart.

When she didn’t - instead gently pulling him towards her and resting her cheek, now wet with her guilty tears, against his bare chest – he finally relaxed enough that Grace could wrap her hands around his torso and squeeze him without him bristling or recoiling.

“I’m so, so sorry Tom” she repeated over and over again, like a mantra, until Tom exhaled a stuttering breath and finally whispered “let’s go to bed”.

They lay side by side that night, barely touching as Grace’s mind tried to process what had happened.

Even though Tom _might_ have overreacted a little bit, Grace hated to admit it but he _did_ kind of have a point. She knew she hadn’t meant anything by her words, they were just that. Silly words. But to Tom, who had always been the butt of the Hiddleston girl’s – _and Grace’s_ \- jokes, she began to understand how it must have sounded like he _really_ didn’t mean anything to her.

She knew that was complete and utter nonsense of course.

Though she was desperate not to admit it aloud, _not even to herself_ , she knew she was falling deeply for Tom and it scared the living daylights out of her.

What she had to do in the morning was to _somehow_ relay this to Tom without saying those three scary words.

It was, after all, still too soon, _wasn’t it?_

Tom was young, much more impetuous…

_There she went again with her derogatory portrayal..!_

Grace sighed and tried again. She had to stop thinking of Tom as someone younger than her. In many ways he was actually far more grounded and mature than she would probably ever be!

Tom was… well, Tom was just Tom! Kind, generous, loving, caring and unfaltering in his desire to see the good in everybody and everything around him.

So why did she continue to trample on his feelings by denying how she felt about him?

_Fuck!_

It was just so hard to admit that she was _banking_ on him!

For as long as Grace could remember the only person she had ever _truly_ banked on was herself. She didn’t even rely on Sarah all the time for goodness sake! And _she_ was Grace’s best friend!

What would happen if she let down her defences and started to bank on Tom and they didn’t make it? It _had_ only been four days after all…

_Four joyous days…_

Still. One of them needed to remain grounded _._

_Didn’t they?_

It didn’t mean she lov– _cared_ about– him any less, _did it?!_  

She just had to make Tom see that too...

An idea popped into her head and she lay there, working out how she could go about putting it into action, hopefully reassuring Tom about her commitment in the process.

With a deep sigh Grace finally closed her eyes and drifted off into a troubled sleep, praying her plan would somehow make Tom understand just how much he truly meant to her…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry. Grace has to start realising the impact of her words...


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making up can be so _hard_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi-POV
> 
> NSFW!

 

Tom woke alone and somewhat ashamed of himself.

Sure, Grace’s apparent dismissal of him had hurt, but somewhere between wakefulness and sleep he’d remembered her words after they’d argued over him kissing the magazine, referring to her rebuttal of his affection way back at home in his garden…

_“I didn’t mean it, you know? I was just scared.”_

He was ninety nine per cent certain that she hadn’t been faking the way she’d been acting around him up here in Edinburgh.

So that could only mean one thing.

She was _still_ scared.

Tom frowned, again wondering what he could possibly do to cast away that fear. He knew it probably stemmed from her loneliness. She’d built up a wall in a vain attempt not to feel any emotion other than indifference from anyone other than his family, and while he was definitely inside the wall, the kind of emotion he was craving from her was so far outside of her comfort zone that she seemed petrified to verbalise what her actions so easily revealed.

He realised he would need to be patient.

It _had_ only been five days after all!

But in understanding Grace’s struggle, he also recognized that it didn’t excuse the way she continued to speak about him with Sarah. He would have to address that otherwise it would fester and that couldn’t be healthy for either of them.

With a deep sigh Tom rolled over and contemplated his next move.

_First things first, he needed to find Grace…_

*

Tom was just climbing out of bed when Grace quietly pushed the bedroom door open and peered inside. She thought she’d heard movement and when she saw Tom sat on the edge of the bed looking miserable her stomach sank.  

_She knew it._

She’d pushed him too far.

She was so thoughtless. So irresponsible.

“Grace!” Tom’s eyes lit up as they looked up to her and suddenly her heart soared.

Maybe all was not completely lost…

“Tom… I’m sorr-”

“ _I’m_ sorry!”

The pair laughed nervously, their bruised egos cautiously assessing the situation.

“No…” Grace abruptly shook her head “Tom, _I’M_ sorry. I completely fell back into the old me when I spoke to my friend, _your sister_ … I took the mickey out of you just like I’ve always done and that’s simply not okay any more… I know we’re going to have to come clean at some point with everybody, but I guess I just panicked last night and reverted back to teasing you. I promise it won’t happen again Tom. You mean too much to me…” she trailed off, praying he understood.

“I didn’t like it…” Tom sighed, nodding in acknowledgement “But I probably overreacted…”

“ _No!_ You didn’t overreact Tom!” Grace shook her head vehemently “If the shoe had been on the other foot I would have reacted exactly the same” Grace paused and looked sheepishly at Tom “or worse, I probably would have hit you!”

“Ehehehe… remind me never to piss _you_ off then!” Tom smiled genuinely then and they both laughed nervously.

“So…” Grace sighed.

“So…?” Tom smiled again. He couldn’t bear the sad look on her face and he beckoned her towards him.

Grace hesitated then turned back and out into the lounge before returning with her hands full.

“Peace offering…?” she sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a tray full of toast, croissants, jam and strawberries and two cups of tea.

Tom licked his lips and nodded, pulling her closer and kissing her softly on the lips and whispering “truce” before sliding back under the duvet and digging into breakfast in bed.

“Mmm… Is that my shirt you’re wearing?” Tom suddenly quirked his eyebrow questioningly as he licked strawberry juice from his bottom lip.

“Erm… yeah, sorry…” Grace looked apologetic but Tom grinned.

“No. It _definitely_ looks better on you!” he nodded slowly, admiring the way it grazed the top of her lightly tanned thighs as she sat cross-legged next to him on the bed.

“I bet it would look even better on the floor though…” Grace began unfastening the buttons, standing up in front of Tom and wiggling her hips to some unknown beat as she slowly worked the soft fabric away from her otherwise naked body.

Tom hummed in appreciate, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Hmm… definitely better…” Tom licked his lips.

He moved the breakfast tray to the bedside table and reached out for her. Grace straddled him, kissing him languidly as one hand slid under the duvet and slowly stroked his hardening cock.

“So… Thomas” she pulled her lips reluctantly away from his, releasing his bottom lips with a low groan.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for you for a while now…” Grace purred, wriggling further down the bed and pulling back the duvet to reveal his barely contained erection, the thin cotton of his boxers the only barrier.

“Oh yeah?” Tom’s eyebrow shot up in curiosity as Grace grinned then teasingly bit her bottom lip.

“Well… you see, the thing is…” she bent her head and ghosted a breath over the thin cotton, causing Tom to inadvertently buck up, almost hitting her in the face.

“Shit, sorry!” he gasped, his voice trembling as Grace just smiled and lowered her mouth even closer, this time running the tip of her tongue along the length of his clothed cock before looking up at him through hooded eyes.

“I want to taste you Thomas!” she finally groaned before suddenly blurting out “ _Oh God I want to suck you so badly…_ I want you to _feel_ how good it feels!”

She knew she was rambling, probably incoherently, but now Grace had started she couldn’t seem to stop.

“I _need_ you to understand how good it feels to have my tongue around your dick… just like _I_ know how good it feels to have _your_ tongue inside me!”

“Fuck… yes!” Tom groaned, nodding eagerly “Yes… _do it!_ Do _whatever_ you want baby!”   

Grace bent back down and rubbed her lips against Tom’s now straining, but still clothed length and inhaled deeply, breathing in his masculine scent and groaning unashamedly. Her fingers hooked into the sides of his boxers and she had just started to claw at the fabric when the shrill ring – _was it always that loud?_ – of the telephone made her freeze.

“Shit!” Tom growled “That’s probably my mum with my results!”

Biting back a sigh of disappointment at being foiled in her pursuit of fellatio _again_ , Grace reluctantly sat back on her haunches, allowing Tom to swing his already shaking legs off the bed and hastily make his way out to grab the phone.

Grace slid to the edge of the bed, about to join Tom but he appeared back in the bedroom, phone in hand and still sporting an impressive erection as he paced back and forth, nodding and listening to his mother’s nervous voice on the other end of the line as she tore open the envelope containing his exam results.

Grace couldn’t hear what was being said but as Tom recited each subject she saw his eyes brighten more and more and her heart bloomed with pride, instinctively knowing he had achieved whatever grades he needed for Cambridge.

Grace knelt upright on the bed, like an expectant puppy waiting for its master to give her his attention. Tom watched her out of the corner of his eye, trailing his tongue along his lips as that same corner of his eye wandered down to her mouth, then lower to her perky breasts and back up to her moist lips.

“Right… great… Okay mum. Thanks for ringing me! I’ve got to go, Grace made a celebratory breakfast for me and I don’t want it to go cold… Yeah, I know… I know… Yes. I’ll ring you back later. Thanks… Love you!”

Tom pressed ‘end call’ and tossed the phone on the dresser before sliding his boxers down and lying back down on the bed, his head resting on one elbow as he quirked his eyebrow at Grace expectantly.

“Now where were we?”

Grace shot him a warning look, but giggled, turning her back to him and bending forward on all fours so that her face was positioned just above his semi hard cock.

“I’m afraid he couldn’t cope with all the excitement!” Tom chuckled apologetically, looking down and immediately stopping as he realised he had a perfect view of Grace’s bare ass and- well… _a perfect view!_

“Are you not even going to tell me?” Grace turned her head back, only to find Tom staring at said perfect view.

“Hey!” she snapped her fingers “I’m talking! And I was about to show you some of my best moves!” Grace teased, suddenly hoping she could live up to her confident words.

“Shit… Sorry!” Tom refocused, gasping as Grace’s hair tickled the base of his cock when she bent her head closer.

He could already feel the slight heat from her breath on his skin and he anxiously stopped her by tapping one hand on her calf.

“Wait!” Tom’s voice interrupted her suddenly nervous thoughts “Are you sure about this?”

“ _What?”_ Grace pulled her head away and looked back over her shoulder in confusion “Don’t you _want_ me to? Do you not like it or something?”

"Well... erm... The thing is, no-one's ever done that to me before... _Have they?_ " Tom mumbled pointedly, looking embarrassed once again at his lack of experience.

"I am worried about hurting you though..." he sighed.

Grace’s face broke out into a huge smile and for the briefest moment he wondered if she might actually laugh at him.

So when she looked into his eyes with barely contained relief he quirked his eyebrow questioningly.

"What?"

"The thing is Tom... well it's this... _Erm, I've_ never _done_  it to someone either... "

"Really?" Tom looked shocked but then quickly hid it as he beamed with relief, not immediately noticing the same expression on his beloved Grace.

"Really!" She hummed in response "and as for hurting me? Tom, it's been _here_..." she wiggled her bum in his face and for the briefest moment Tom looked downright horrified - _wondering if he’d accidentally got the wrong hole at some point in all his youthful exuberance_ \- before she lowered her head back towards his crotch and he saw her pussy, the pink folds already dewy with her arousal.

The groan of realisation that escaped his lips was low, predatory and spurred Grace on.

As she lowered her mouth to the tip of his cock, now lying thick and heavy against his belly, she prayed she was right about this.

The closer she got, the longer and thicker  _it_  got!

_Don't be so fucking nervous!_

She’d been wanting to do this for ages! And Tom didn’t have any frame of reference she realised, so even if she was _terrible_ at it, it would  _still_  be the best blow job he'd ever had, wouldn’t it?!

With a hastily stifled nervous giggle and a sudden new found determination, Grace lowered her mouth so that it was just hovering above his crown, taking a couple of deep breathes as Tom already began to twitch below her.

"Mmm" he groaned in anticipation.

Grace slowly stroked Tom’s _still_ thickening length, her small hand struggling to contain him. Each time she reached the head she gave it a slight twist, trailing her fingers over the tip and gathering some of the fluid beginning to pool there, before blowing warm air gently through her puckered lips.

Tom moaned reassuringly with every movement she made and she began to grow in confidence. But just as she’d shuffled closer, dipping her head towards his now stiff cock and took the tip between her moist pink lips, her ass arched higher into the air, causing Tom to let out a frustrated sigh, and she froze.

"Ugh Grace baby! I can't relax with this…” Tom whined, sliding one finger up her glistening slit, causing her to groan around the head of his cock.

"Fuck!” he hissed, taking a stuttering breath before continuing “I can’t relax with _this_ in my face...”

As if to prove the point Tom’s finger again stroked her, slipping inside her slick walls and causing Grace to push back into his penetrating touch, her moan reverberating again around Tom’s cockhead.

“It’s too fucking distracting!" he groaned in frustration, knowing he _really_ shouldn’t be looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Reluctantly Grace released him from between her lips but looked over her shoulder with a grin.

" _Right!_ Understood... although you know? That magazine you're so fond of reading all of a sudden  _does_  suggest you licking me while I'm sucking you in a different copy!”

Tom’s eyebrows nearly hit the roof and he looked like he was seriously considering it for a moment.

When Grace giggled and started to turn around so that she was facing him, he even had the decency to look slightly disappointed before reality seemed to finally hit him.

"Yeah, maybe not this time... we’ve had quite enough accidents for one week!” he suddenly chuckled.

Grace settled herself between Tom’s spread thighs, taking a moment to appreciate the taut muscles from hours of running clearly visible under his pale freckled skin.

“Ready?” she whispered and Tom gulped before nodding, his breathing quickening as she ran her tongue along the underside of his now completely erect cock, mapping out the thick, pulsing vein and then circling its head with her slick lips.

“Mmm” Tom moaned in appreciation and Grace repeated the motion, her tongue gliding back down to the base, where she nuzzled the fine thatch of dark blond curls before retracing that maddeningly enticing vein.

She swirled her tongue again around his head, this time opening her lips wider and sheathing as much of his generous length as she could inside her hot mouth. As Tom groaned, Grace reciprocated, causing him to groan even louder and reach out for her.

Tom’s long fingers threaded through Grace’s long hair, brushing it away from her face and guiding her gently, _tentatively_ , as she felt him harden further still between her wet lips.

Grace could feel herself, already wet, becoming utterly soaked as she heard Tom’s moans and groans of pleasure. To know _she_ was responsible for making somebody – _No, not just somebody... Tom_ \- feel _this_  good was incredibly arousing.

Now she understood why Tom got such a kick out of it!

She took him deeper, feeling his bulbous head hit the back of her throat even though there was still more of his length to swallow. For a second she panicked, coughing and Tom pushed her back, looking down with concern as she took great gasps of air.

_“Baby…?”_

“I’m… _I’m okay…_ ” she whispered shakily and before Tom could stop her, Grace’s lips were back around the head of his cock, gently squeezing and pushing back his foreskin as she used the tip of her tongue to stimulate the hard ridge on the underside.

Tom growled loudly and Grace looked up as she continued to suck and kiss and lick, teasing him with her mouth, worshipping every inch of his cock.

Their eyes met and shared a look of unbridled passion as Grace began to work faster, becoming more and more confident as Tom’s eyes flashed cobalt with desire.

He was grunting now, his eyes transfixed as he watched Grace’s idle hand wander down between her thighs, two fingers slipping through her soaking folds and plunging into her hot pussy.

She moaned around Tom’s cock as her fingers stoked her own arousal, causing Tom to tighten his grip on her hair, Grace’s responding moans pulsing again along his throbbing length.

“Let me taste you!” Tom begged huskily and Grace reached her arousal soaked fingers up to Tom’s greedy mouth, where he licked and sucked them clean with a satisfied moan of appreciation.

Grace returned her attention to his cock, increasing her pace, buoyed on by the now deep growls rumbling throughout Tom’s sweat soaked chest.

"Oh God! Oh Grace! _Fuck..."_ he panted, his fingers clawing against her scalp as he attempted to pull her feverish mouth off him, trying to signal he was close.

Grace had other ideas. She shook her head at Tom, her mouth still wrapped tightly around his tip and continued to suck as her hand stimulated him.

Tom's groans got louder still as his cock seemed to grow harder in her mouth, and realising that Grace wasn’t about to stop Tom finally gave himself over completely to pleasure, the heated friction of her lips and tongue pushing him closer and closer to his release.

Grace in turn, sensed Tom’s imminent release. Her jaw was beginning to tire now but she was determined to see this through to the bitter end – _literally!_

Tightening her grip on the base of his cock, she maintained her rhythm, using her hand to stimulate it as her mouth continued to work the tip. Back and forth, back and forth.

“Christ… baby… don’t stop… _oh Jesus… fuck!_ ” Tom suddenly roared and jerked up, desperately pumping his seed into Grace’s gulping mouth as he gripped her hair.

“Mmmph!” Grace groaned, swallowing every last drop and continuing to suck and swirl her tongue along his throbbing tip.

"Aaah.... Fuck! Owww...!" Tom suddenly gasped, tugging desperately at her hair and Grace finally released his deflating member with an embarrassed pop.

“Shit! Sorry… what… what’s wrong?” Grace panted, her forehead furrowed as she watched Tom’s pained expression slowly ebb away.

“Oh baby…” Tom gasped for air, pulling her up and alongside him, brushing her damply dishevelled hair away from her face and smiling enigmatically “Sshhh… sorry. It’s fine now, just remember what I said about how sensitive my dick is when I’ve just come? Well… ehehe… that!”

“Aha… _Oh shit yeah!_ Sorry about that!” Grace giggled “I won’t do that again”

“It’s okay… Good God though Grace! _That_...” Tom waved absentmindedly back and forth between her mouth and his cock “that was fucking incredible!”

Grace couldn’t help but grin and blushed furiously “Really?”

“Um hmm… _really!”_ Tom nodded enthusiastically “In fact, feel free to do _that_ anytime!”

“Duly noted!” she giggled before turning to him and suddenly looking serious “So Anyway, are you going to tell me how you did in your A-levels now, or am I going to have to ring your mother back and ask her myself?”

“Oh I haven’t finished with you just yet young lady…” Tom purred against her ear, nibbling at the tender flesh.

“Well you’d better bloody tell me then, ‘cos I’m going to explode if you don’t tell me soon!” she shuddered.

“No, no, no… my girl” Tom crooned, his fingers sliding down to Grace’s folds and slipping easily into her wet heat “the only exploding you’re going to do is around my fingers when I make you come!”

Grace groaned.

“Tell me…” she begged, trying to ignore Tom’s maddening touch.

“Make me…!” Tom teased, gathering some of her juices and spreading it over her engorged clit.

“Oh God…!” she gasped “How?”

“Hmmm….” Tom pretended to ponder this, all the while tapping the rough pads of his soaked fingers languidly over her aching nub as if in contemplation.

“Tom!” she whined again and he chuckled.

“Okay, okay… If you can count to ten without coming I’ll tell you, _and_ let you come!”

“Ugh! You’re evil!” Grace narrowed her eyes but smirked.

_How hard could it be to count to ten after all?!_

“One…”

“In Latin!” Tom smirked back, increasing the pace of his fingers and causing Grace to buck up as she whimpered in frustration.

“Fuck! _Thomas?”_ she growled.

“Tick… tock” he clicked his tongue, laughing wickedly as his fingers slowed their maddening pace.

“Ugh… Unus…”

“One!” Tom nodded.

“Duo”

“Indeed… Two”

“Tres”

“Mmm hmm… Three”

“Quattuor?”

“Four…Yes…?”

“Quinque?”

“Five!”

“S…S…Sex?”

“Now, now Grace! It’s not ladylike to beg for sex, is it?!” Tom laughed again mischievously as his fingers dipped back between her folds and began fucking her slowly.

“Fuck!” she hissed.

“Erm, no darling… that is _definitely_ not Latin. I do believe the word ‘fuck’ has its origins in some form of Germanic language actually, unfortunately _not_ Latin…”

“Sept…Uh… Septem!”

“Yes! Seven! Well done…” Tom’s pace increased and Grace bucked against his fingers, gasping for breath.

“O... O… Octo…!”

“Eight! Nearly there baby…” Tom growled in her ear, canting his fingers forward and hitting her most sensitive spot.

“No… No… ”

Tom paused “ _No?_ Are you asking me to stop?”

Grace’s eyes narrowed as she gasped out “No… Novem!”

 _“Yes!_ Nine!” Tom licked his lips as he watched Grace gasping for breath. Her thighs were tightening around his hand and he forced them apart, a diabolical glint of excitement in his eyes as his fingers tapped that spongy spot repeatedly.

“D… D… Decem!” Grace gasped triumphantly, just as her orgasm flooded from her body. She barely heard Tom’s outpouring of praise as she pulsed around his fingers, moaning loudly as she rode out her climax.

“Oh my clever, clever girl!” Tom groaned in appreciation, slowly withdrawing his fingers, much to Grace’s disappointment, and licking them clean.

“So…?” Grace prompted again, her breath still uneven as she slowly recovered.

“Well… I got an A in English…”

“Copycat!” Grace grinned but nodded for Tom to continue.  

“I got an A in Latin…”

“Well obviously! Ooh, ‘sophos’!” she giggled but squeezed his arm encouragingly.

“An A in Greek…”

“Weirdo!” Grace snorted before winking and muttering “Actually… kudos! That’s Greek isn’t it?!”

Tom laughed and nodded “Yes my love! And I got an A in Theatre Studies”

“Well, _that_ must have been a given? You’re fucking amazing!”

“Erm… thank you” Tom whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by her praise.

“You’re welcome!” she grinned, snuggling closer into Tom, inhaling his scent.

God she was going to miss this.

Not just the sex - although _that_ was fucking amazing! – but _this_ , _this… intimacy.._. She’d been starved of any form of one-on-one affection for as long as she could remember. But now, with this man, she truly understood what she had been missing in her life.

How could she ever go back to being alone after this?

As if reading her mind Tom rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, his intense gaze staring deep into her soul.

“Have you any idea how much I’m going to miss you?” he murmured, dipping his head to nuzzle at the exposed skin at her neck.

Despite the sombreness of the moment Grace couldn’t help but to giggle as his finely stubbled chin tickled her skin.

Tom raised his head and looked deep into her eyes again. Grace stopped laughing and sighed.

“Not even close to how much I’m going to miss you… you’re my world Thomas William Hiddleston…” she whispered and Tom saw the certainty in her eyes. He could feel her heart thumping in her chest against his own and realised how much nerve it had taken for her to say those words.

So what if they weren’t the one’s he was longing to hear.

They were just words after all.

The look in her eyes spoke volumes.

His face slowly broke into a grin and he kissed her, hard.

Grace moaned underneath him and stroked her hands down his back, resting against the generous curve of his ass.

“I’m going to miss this…” she squeezed the ripe flesh indulgently, causing Tom to grind his hardening cock against her thigh “…a lot too”

“Mmm hmm” Tom licked his lips and lowered his head to her left breast “Well i’m going to miss these…!” he sighed contentedly as his mouth surrounded her areola, sucking the rosy pink flesh until it stood taut and dark before moving to the other.

As his mouth surrounded her right breast Tom shifted, rocking his hips and burying himself once more into her slick heat.

“Mmmhh! Oh God…” Grace’s blissful moan shot right to Tom’s dick and he groaned around her nipple, tugging it gently between his teeth as he ground his pelvis against hers, spreading her thighs wider.

Reluctantly releasing the taut bud from between his teeth, Tom leant back up onto his haunches and pulled Grace up with him so that their chests were pressed together.

As their bodies moulded into one, moving in perfect sync with each another, Grace felt Tom hit that spot deep inside her again and memories of the magazine article that had sparked their first argument flashed before her. It occurred to her then that Tom was always the one eager to try new things and that, other than her - _no doubt awkward_ \- attempts at fellatio she’d done very little to discover Tom’s secret desires.

So, as Tom began to increase his pace, grunting loudly as he bounced her on his cock - almost in a trance as he stared down at her jiggling breasts - she decided to turn the tables and see how far _Tom_ was willing to go in the pursuit of pleasure.

When Grace took her index finger into her mouth and started to suck it, Tom’s hooded eyes flitted up from her distracting tits and groaned, remembering how good her mouth had felt around his cock.

_Christ!_

Why had they waited so long to do _that?_

Part of him had just been plain selfish of course. He simply could not get enough of feasting on Grace’s pussy, and then afterwards he was always far too desperate to sink his cock into that same welcoming heat to even consider that Grace might actually _want_ to return the favour.

And then, of course, there was also that gentlemanly part of him who wondered if it was truly okay that he sometimes fantasised about Grace being subjugated with his dick in her mouth. He wanted to rule _and_ worship her beautifully full lips with his cock in equal measures.

It was quite the dichotomy!

_But now…?_

Seeing how enthusiastically she’d taken him between those full pink lips, how she’d worshipped his cock just as he’d worshipped her pussy…

Well…

He knew they really must be a match made in heav- _Jesus!_

_“What the fuck?”_

Tom was brought back to startling reality by Grace’s wet finger - _the same wet finger that had just momentarily distracted him into remembering how her mouth had worshipped his cock, and which he’d assumed had been destined for her needy little pearl_ – tentatively circling the puckered ring of his arse!

 _“Relax Thomas…”_ Grace breathed huskily, a devilishly wicked yet paradoxically reassuring look in her eyes as she suddenly giggled “I had a quick read of that magazine you were kissing the other day…”

Tom racked his now thoroughly distracted brain, unable to truly concentrate on anything while she was touching him _there_.

But then the memory of _that_ article in all its graphic detail came flashing back to him and he froze.

“ _Woah_ … erm…I don’t know Grace…” Tom’s eyebrow’s shot up as she applied the lightest of pressure at his entrance “I think I’d need a stiff drink in me before we tried _that!”_

To her credit, Grace stopped immediately, soothing Tom’s worried lips with her mouth and moving her finger away from his hole. But Tom could still feel her hand underneath where they were joined and she broke away from his mouth, smiling reassuringly up at him as she swiped two fingers through her leaking juices before resting them against the strip of skin between Tom’s balls and his arse.

Tom tensed again, causing Grace to groan as he inadvertently hit her most sensitive spot. Her other hand dug her short nails into his shoulder and their eyes met in a haze of pleasure and anticipation.

“Trust me…” she breathed, her eyes showing no reason not to.

“I promise I won’t go _there_ baby…” she purred “not unless you tell me to…” and Tom visibly relaxed.

Well, as relaxed as a man could relax with a seriously hot, naked woman bouncing on his cock as her fingers began to steadily stroke that intimate little swath of skin.

 _“Oh Fuck!”_ Tom grunted, everything becoming hazy as all he could concentrate on was the way Grace’s cunt was tightening around his throbbing cock and how maddeningly exquisite that caress of her fingers was.

He thought he’d died and gone to heaven as she clenched even tighter around him, her breathy moans becoming louder as his own grunts grew more animalistic, but when Grace rhythmically started to press down ever so slightly harder on that sensitive strip Tom felt himself hurtling towards nirvana.

One hand gripped her ass tightly, digging his nails in hard while the other flew to Grace’s clit and rhythmically rubbed it in time with her own gifted fingers as they finally came undone, Tom thrusting once, twice and one final time as Grace threw her head back and ground herself hard against his pubic bone in an ecstatic exaltation.

 _“Jesus… Mary…. And fucking Joseph!”_ Tom finally roared, exploding inside Grace’s still pulsing walls, every synapse of his nervous system alert and twitching as he rode out the most incredible high he’d ever experienced.

Grace hung limply to his shoulder, her eyes blurry – or was it _his_ eyes that were blurry? – yet blissfully content.

A sudden second wave of euphoria passed throughout his nerves, causing Tom to shudder and Grace to sigh as his softening cock slipped from between her slick depths.

Completely blissed out, Tom wrapped a shaking arm around Grace and gently slid them both down so that they were lay facing one another again on the crumpled sheets. They lay, silent, their soaked foreheads rested against one another, inhaling each other’s breath as they slowly regulated their breathing.

As their weary eyes closed in unison the last thought that crossed Tom’s mind was that actions _definitely_ spoke louder than words…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: It's been a ridiculously long time since I studied Latin. Unfortunately I didn't have Thomas on hand (ugh!) to correct my grammar so if there are any mistakes, please, someone let me know!
> 
> Thanks as always to all my lovely readers for sticking with me! <3
> 
> One more chapter and then we'll be taking another journey in time...


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Grace and Tom's final full day and night together in Edinburgh... Cue the feels.
> 
> P.S. It's very long, just like Tom... ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV
> 
> NSFW (Naturellement!)

Their last full day together was spent under the covers, watching old movies from Grace’s collection, while feeding one another leftovers from the fridge. After having watched Dirty Dancing – Tom’s choice - and then Easter Parade – Grace’s choice - Grace sighed loudly.

“I wish I could dance!” she moaned “It always looks so damn easy in these bloody films but it’s not! It’s like some kind of secret society”

Her voice trailed off as she realised Tom was looking at her like she was crazy.

 _“What?”_ Grace raised her eyebrows as he grinned at her “It’s all well and good you looking all smug at me Thomas William Hiddleston! You were probably inducted into the secret society of dance before you were even born judging by your fancy footwork!” she frowned “ _I,_ on the other hand, was never destined to reach the same lofty heights. Blood hell, I can’t even tap my foot in time to music!”

“Oh c’mon on baby! You’re not _that_ bad!” Tom realised his faux pas immediately and quickly tried to cover it “I mean, you have a pretty good sense of rhythm when you’re not on your feet…”

His voice trailed off as Grace’s eyebrows shot up and gave him a look that could kill.

Nervously he coughed, realising he was in danger of digging himself even deeper, but wanting to reassure her.

“Anyway. I like the way you dance” he leant forward and attempted to kiss her.

“It’s cute!”

When Grace tried to pull away he stroked her cheek and tried again. This time Grace assented, allowing him to lean her back against the pillows and caress her lips with a languid kiss before slowly breaking away and looking lovingly into her eyes.

“And _you’re_ cute! So it fits perfectly! But… If you want I could teach you a few simple steps? There’s going to be dancing tonight at the party!” he looked hopeful and she sighed.

“Oh Tom! We only have three hours before you have to be at the theatre! It’d be a bloody miracle if you could teach me anything in that time!”

“Ah…” Tom kissed her again, murmuring confidently against her lips “but I’m a _very_ good teacher baby!”

Grace groaned, but she took the hand he offered her as he pulled away, standing and looking expectantly down at her.

_This wasn’t fair!_

He was going to remember just how awful she was and laugh.

Or _worse_ , ditch her!

This man loved dancing – possibly as much as he loved acting! - while she _loathed_ it. Well, loathed _herself_ dancing! She had no problem watching Tom dance…

“Here…” Tom guided her towards him, holding her in a classic waltz stance and as he started to move, whispering one – two – three, one – two – three, over and over as he attempted to guide her out of the bedroom and into the lounge. If Grace stood on his foot once, she must have stepped on it a dozen times and after nearly twenty minutes of Tom’s patient attempts to guide her, and Grace’s increasingly impatient huffs and puffs they finally fell into a giggling heap on the sofa.

“Yeah, maybe I’m not that great a teacher after all!” Tom chuckled, dipping his head to avoid a smack from Grace. But she was laughing too, rolling her eyes and reminding Tom of her earlier proclamation.

“See! It _is_ a secret society! And no Thomas, unfortunately you’re no Johnny Castle!”

“Ehehehe, well I don’t want to be in any society without you so if _you_ don’t dance, _I_ don’t dance!”

“But that’s not fair on you!” she protested.

Tom just shrugged his shoulders and stroked her hand, smiling to himself.

“But… what if you were offered a job where you _had_ to dance? Would you turn that down because of me?” Grace frowned “What would you do if Spielberg rang and told you he was going to direct a rebooted version of Top Hat?”

Tom looked aghast.

“Firstly… my dearest Grace, no-one would _ever_ touch Top Hat!” he shook his head as if the idea was simply too preposterous to even consider “and secondly, however much I would _love_ to receive that call, the likelihood of Spielberg _ever_ ringing me is highly unlikely! In fact, I’d probably go as far as to say I had more chance of starring in a huge Disney movie than _ever_ getting a call from Spielberg! Not that that’s likely either!” Tom chuckled to himself, finding the whole conversation ludicrous.

“Well I think you’d be perfect!” Grace folded her arms huffily before suddenly giggling to herself.

“What now?” Tom raised his eyebrows expectantly and Grace laughed even more.

“I swear to God woman!” he narrowed his eyes, but there was humour in them and Grace bit back her laughter and looked up at him with an excited grin.

“Oooh… ooh! I’ve got it!” she started to bounce on the sofa, causing Tom to momentarily get distracted as his eyes fell to her chest, her braless breasts moving hypnotically under the T shirt Grace had stolen from him.

Tom licked his lips and leant forward but Grace pushed him back gently, her eyes full of mirth as she giggled “You could play Baloo!”

Tom snorted but Grace was serious.

“Think about it Tom! You’re tall… Baloo’s tall. He’s playful and easy-going just like you… _Ooh!_ And protective too! Oh and he’s blue, and well… you _do_ wear a lot of blue! And of course you dance too… and man that bear can wiggle his arse!”

“Grace? Do you have a bit of a thing for that bear?” Tom quirked his eyebrows and chuckled teasingly, that is, until Grace shrugged her shoulders and winked at him, whispering “Maybe…?”

“Oh… My… God!” Tom gasped “That’s so fucking wrong!”

“What? He’s so cute and cuddly and… and… well… he always reminds me of you because you used to sing Bare Necessities in the garden all the time…” Grace’s voice trailed off as she realised she’d probably said much more than she should have done.

Tom was looking at her with an unreadable expression and she grew more and more flustered.

“Look, it’s no big deal, okay?” she rambled “It just reminds me of when we were kids. I remember you insisting on watching the whole movie on repeat for an entire day. You were so giddy as you watched it. And when you adamantly insisted we put it straight back on? Well, it made me laugh! It drove Sarah crazy of course, but it was one of my favourite Disney movies so I was secretly pleased, although by the fifth time of watching I have to say Kaa nearly _did_ send me to sleep! And I think you traumatised Emma for life!”

“Woah! You remember that?” Tom’s eyes widened, smiling at the memory.

He couldn’t have been more than six or seven. It had been the middle of winter and pouring down with rain. They’d been trapped indoors for days on end and each day the children had taken turns to choose what movies – or in Tom’s case, _movie_ \- they all watched.

“Mmm hmm” Grace nodded, kissing his sweet face before snuggling into his chest “Maybe you could dance _and_ sing in a play or movie someday…”

“Ehehehe, I’m not sure about that baby” Tom chuckled but finally conceded “I guess though, I can probably share you with good old Baloo!” Tom grinned to himself, planting a kiss on the top of Grace’s head as he started to sing [Bare Necessities](https://youtu.be/JNvxb_VkGCc?t=25s) quietly in her ear.

Grace closed her eyes and sighed happily, wondering how she’d ever struck it this lucky.

*

The final performance finished to yet another rapturous chorus of applause from the audience and Grace stood, clapping along with them, beaming from ear to ear as she watched Tom and his fellow cast member’s return for two more encore bows.

Afterwards she made her way backstage, joining the rest of the invited guests for the productions end of run party.

As she waited for Tom, Grace fidgeted with the asymmetric top of her dress, suddenly wishing she’d chosen something less formal as she looked around at the rest of the guest’s outfits, and _definitely_ less revealing. Tom’s eye’s had been out on stalks when she’d slipped the soft jersey dress on, but thanks to them having dozed off on the sofa and waking with less than half an hour until Tom was due at the theatre, there had been no time for him to do anything about the lecherous glint in his eyes.

Grace smiled to herself at the thought, finding the drinks table and grabbing herself a glass of wine and a bottle of beer for Tom. Tonight, as the cast filed into the glorified lounge-come-kitchen which backed directly onto one wing of the stage, they were greeted to another round of applause before each took their turn to say a few words of thanks to their fellow cast members and all the crew. Then someone turned on the music and the party truly began. Grace had emptied her glass by this point and was reaching for a second when Tom sought her out and grabbed the bottle of beer, planting a firm kiss on her lips before downing the entire contents of the bottle in one long slug.

Grace watched the muscles work in Tom’s throat, completely mesmerised. He had showered and changed, his curls still full and damp and wearing a shirt that he had barely even bothered to button up.

** **

 

She was so mesmerised, in fact, that when Tom set down his empty bottle and took her hand, pulling her onto the stage - which had been transformed into a makeshift dancefloor - she barely realised what was happening until it was too late.

Grace was shaking her head furiously and giving Tom the evil eye as he started to move opposite her, causing a crowd of cast, crew and guests to form around him as he got his groove on. Grace meanwhile stood, barely swaying her hips for two distinct reasons.

Firstly, there was absolutely no way she could even hope to come close to Tom’s standard or energy level. As had been made abundantly clear that afternoon, she was a disaster on the dance floor and no amount of coaching from Tom would change that.

But perhaps more tellingly, she found herself clamping her thighs together, trying to stave off the need which was rapidly coursing throughout her body as she watched him, just as she had only a month earlier – _but now as his lover!_ – driving _everybody_ wild with the hypnotic rhythm of his hips and knowing _exactly_ what exquisite damage those very hips could do to her desperately needy lady parts!.

The crowd were clapping and cheering Tom on and Grace watched on proudly - and more than a little aroused - as he pivoted on his heels while unfastening the last two buttons on his shirt and started to thrust those damn snake hips in her direction. It was like his cock was some sort of heat seeking missile as he grew closer and closer and she bit her lip. _Hard_.

  

Grace couldn’t help but stare as it became blatantly obvious to see that dancing seemed to have had the same effect on Tom, and when he pulled her into his body and began to grind against her she felt herself turn to jelly. She became oblivious of the music, the cheers and ‘aaws’ of the crowd disappearing into the ether as all Grace’s senses centred on the man holding her, before he suddenly lifted her and twirled her off the dancefloor so she didn’t embarrass herself any more with her ungainly footwork.

“Hey! I thought _nobody_ puts ['baby'](https://youtu.be/28A9Jgo92GQ?t=25s) in a corner!” Grace giggled as Tom finally set her back down in the darkened corner, arms still tightly around her waist as they moved awkwardly, Tom perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the music and Grace two beats behind. Tom chuckled at her joke but Grace’s cheeks were burning as she tried her best to keep in time. However, seeing as that had always been a struggle even _before_ she’d had to factor in Tom’s distractingly naked chest pressed hard against her, it soon became apparent – _when her heel stabbed Tom’s clown feet_ – that nothing had changed.

“Ow Fuck!” Tom hissed before dissolving into laughter.

_It was a good job he loved this woman more than he loved dancing because she really was bloody terrible!_

“Shit! Tom, I’m so sorry!” Grace groaned, mortified and trying to pull away.

Tom tightened his grip on her arse and lifted her again, forcing her to wrap her thighs around his waist as he spun her around once more. They both groaned as their ardent centres pressed against one another and Tom squeezed her arse greedily as he pressed his forehead to hers and gently rubbed noses. The juxtaposition between the sublimely intimate nature of their embrace and the romantic sweetness of Tom’s simple gesture caused Grace to sigh with unashamed pleasure and she calmed completely under his touch.

Tom slowed to a halt and Grace relaxed her thighs, indicating that she wanted to stand again. Reluctantly Tom released her but as she slid back down his body, her pelvis rubbed again his erection and his groan was loud enough to make her lose all rational thought yet again.

With only one thing on her mind, Grace grabbed Tom’s hand and dragged him off into the wings of the stage but Tom shook his head knowingly and changed direction, pulling Grace with him as he caught on to her imminent need.

She tried to keep up in her heels but it was no good. Coming to a sudden standstill and causing him to look back impatiently, Tom found himself staring at an unintentionally exposed nipple as she bent forward and pulled off her shoes.

Growling even more impatiently, Tom realised Grace couldn’t be wearing a bra under her revealing dress and his cock throbbed even harder.

How the fuck had he missed _that_ earlier?!

Before he was able to fathom how it had escaped his notice, Grace was back ahead of him and anxiously pushing at doors, searching for some privacy. But it was Tom, using his superior knowledge of the backstage area, who finally pulled Grace towards the open door of a dimly lit room.

Double checking that they were alone, Tom closed the door behind them and leant against it, looking down with barely contained excitement as Grace sunk to her knees and tugged impatiently at the belt holding up Tom’s baggy cargo shorts. She released the buttons and pushed both his shorts and boxers down to his knees in one fluid movement.

Tom groaned as her lips immediately circled his hard cock, her hot, wet tongue lapping at his already weeping head. She worked fast, her eagerness to taste Tom leaving him no time to think about anything other than the feel of her berry stained lips as she swallowed almost his entire length. Her confidence had grown since that first time she’d taken him between her lips and as she worked her hand at his base, her other hand started to stroke and gently massage his balls, eliciting a strangulated groan of pleasure to rise up in the otherwise silent dressing room.

“Oh fuck me, Grace!” he gasped “ _Yes!!”_

Grace moaned in response. She got off so badly from hearing Tom’s pleasure and as she quickened her pace, her lips tightening around the head of Tom’s pulsating cock she felt his balls tighten under her caress and he was coming, hard, his thick cum pulsing into her greedy mouth as the air was painted blue with a carnal litany of profanity.

Grace barely had time to wipe a stray smear of cum from her lips before Tom had pulled her back up to her feet and turned the tables, slamming her roughly against the same door he’d been using for support only moment earlier.

Grace gasped at his forcefulness but gave herself over to him fully, Tom’s hands wild as one pushed down the top of her dress and played with the same taut nipple that had taunted him earlier, while his other hand pushed up the skirt and tugged impatiently at her thong.

He was reluctant to release her breast, his teeth sinking into the hard bud and tugging gently as his large hand cupped and massaged her flesh. Unfortunately his growing impatience to get to her pussy was not conducive with his desire to maintain such contact and in frustrated desperation he growled around her nipple as he tore through the fine lace.

Grace gasped and was about to chastise Tom, but was silenced by the hard, deep pressure of two long fingers sliding into her wet heat as he finally released his hold on her breast and lifted her effortlessly off the ground. Tom set about the same brutal pace that Grace had maintained with him, thrusting his slick fingers deep and hard before scissoring them and watching in fascination as Grace threw her head back, arching into his hand and positively screamed at the stretch. Just when she seemed to have grown accustomed, he added a third finger and she groaned, her sweat soaked forehead falling onto Tom’s shoulder as he fucked her hard with his fingers, canting them and hitting that sweet spot he knew would send her stratospheric. Grace wrapped her arms around his neck, bucking and groaning before suddenly tensing around his fingers. He took that as his signal and before she had chance to come Tom quickly withdrew his fingers - _much to Grace’s whimpering displeasure_ \- only to slide her down onto his waiting dick.

Even with such preparation the stretch made Grace moan and she clung to Tom, her feet dangling mid-air as he lifted her higher with each thrust and pounded her harder and harder against the door.

Tom's cock throbbed inside Grace’s silky walls, slick with arousal. She’d been wet enough already just from watching Tom’s face as she’d sucked his cock, it having given her a perverse sense of control. It was then she’d realised just how much she _loved_ it.

Watching Tom come undone because of her?

_Well..._

It was quite the turn on.

But then, when his fingers, and - _oh God!_ – his cock got involved, well _that_ was something else altogether…

That was also when she realised that Tom was only letting her _play_ at being in control. He always seemed to be one step ahead of her. She wasn’t altogether sure how she felt about that balance of power but if it meant she got to be manhandled by him like _this_ , she figured she would do her best to suck it up!

And suck it up she did as she bucked her hips repeatedly in time with Tom’s hard thrusts and exploded around him, her quivering walls squeezing Tom’s second climax from him in the darkened room, accompanied by their mingled cries and grunts.

As Tom held a clinging Grace to him and gasped for air, he watched her eyelids flutter shut with sheer adoration in his eyes, trying his damnedest not to let his brain wander anywhere but this moment. He wanted to remember this seemingly frivolous memory – _that of clandestinely holding the woman he loved, with her wrapped around him in every sense_ \- forever.

But alas, all good things must come to an end and the same was true of the moment.

A loud cough just outside the door alerted the young lovers to the likelihood of their discovery and reluctantly Tom bent his knees, setting Grace’s shaky legs back down on the floor, his spent cock slipping out of her weeping pussy as she sighed. Fumbling around, Tom found a box of tissues and they quickly tidied up, making themselves as presentable as two horny lovers could when their hair had become matted messes and Grace had somehow lost _another_ thong.

Tom grinned knowingly to himself as he opened the door, poking his head out to check the coast was clear only to find three of his fellow cast members leaning against the wall opposite, their arms crossed as they stood smirking.

“Fuck!” Tom rolled his eyes and looked down at Grace apologetically “We’ve been rumbled!”

Blushing furiously and desperately trying to ignore the whoops and cheers of the three young men, Grace followed Tom back out to the stage, his hand squeezing hers reassuringly as the people nearest the wing joined in the cheers.

 _Shit!_ Clearly they’d been a _lot_ louder than either of them had thought!

Tom bowed, acting just as he had on stage at the end of each performance but Grace’s face glowed even brighter with embarrassment as he gripped her hand and spun her around with a flourish before shouting “ ‘ _All the world’s a stage’_ has never sounded so true! I bid you all a fond farewell!” And with a regal wave Tom said goodbye to his colleagues with a cocky smirk plastered across his face.

“Oh God!” Grace’s face burned furiously as they ran outside, a combination of laughter and mortification making her cheeks bloom brighter still.

“Ehehehe” Tom chuckled, grabbing her waist and pressing her back up against the theatre wall as his lips crashed against hers once more.

Grace moaned into his mouth, distracted by his talented tongue. Tom’s hand wandered back down to her arse and he squeezed it indulgently, eliciting another moan from Grace. It was reciprocated by Tom as she mirrored his actions, grabbing both firm buttocks and digging in her short nails.

Tom’s growl was positively feral.

“Oh for the love of God you two…” the sound of Ken, Tom’s friend and colleague, behind them startled Tom and Grace and they reluctantly pulled apart, long enough for Tom to look over his shoulder with a smirk of pride.

“Get a fucking room!”

“What can I say?” Tom chuckled cockily “She just can’t get enough of me!”

Ken rolled his eyes but chuckled back knowingly, much to Grace’s exasperation.

“Oh really Thomas!” she purred, her eyes moving from Tom to Ken and back again with her own knowing smile.

“I’d say _this…_ ” Grace grabbed Tom’s conspicuous erection and rubbed it, eliciting a low groan of pleasure to escape his lips “ _little_ fella is the stalker around here!”

Ken coughed in a mixture of laughter and shock “Ahem, _righto then…!_ Well, on that fascinating note I’m gonna leave you two love birds to it!” he sniggered as Tom frowned, clearly not impressed with Grace’s less than complimentary description.

Yet Tom needn’t have worried about his friend leaving with such an unimpressive opinion of his manhood. Ken had seen that thing enough times in the dressing room fighting against Tom’s costume to know the truth. He chuckled as he walked away, imagining the challenge costumiers were going to face trying to contain _that_ monster once Tom hit the big time… And realising that when they finally did, it would probably have to be written into Tom’s contract that Grace not be allowed on set for fear of wardrobe malfunctions!

Grace was still grinning as Ken walked away, chuckling to himself, but as Tom turned back and looked down at her, his eyes flashing with annoyance, she swallowed her laughter and batted her eyelashes apologetically.

“Oh Thomas…” she purred coquettishly “I’m sorry darling! It was only a joke!” she smirked then, squeezing his cock again and winking “You know how much I love the little fella _really_ ”.

Tom grabbed her hand, pushing it back up against the wall forcefully as he lowered his face closer to hers and narrowed his eyes, his face darkening with an unreadable expression.

In the glow from the streetlight his usually kind features suddenly looked much more menacing and Grace gasped at the sudden change.

 _“Little?”_ Tom sneered.

 _Christ!_ He would make a _ferocious_ villain!

She licked her lips nervously as she realised just the thought of that was making her even wetter and she whimpered almost desperately.

“I’m sorry! Take me home and make me pay… Remind me what he can do to me!”

Tom quirked an eyebrow but grinned wickedly and before Grace had time to even register what was happening he’d slung her forcefully over his shoulder and was walking with a purpose that made her clench her thighs tightly together.

“Tom!” she gasped “I _can_ walk you know! You’ll tire yourself out before we even get home!”

“Oh… are you questioning my stamina now as well?” Tom growled and Grace could no longer be sure if he was still annoyed or whether this was some form of elaborate foreplay.

Either way he was clearly in no mood to debate the issue so she acquiesced.

This time as Tom climbed the stairs with Grace in a fireman’s lift, adrenaline spurred him on.

He was determined to show this irascible little minx who wore the bloody trousers in this relationship!

Making his way into the bedroom, Tom dropped her unceremoniously at the foot of the bed.

“Strip!” he commanded and Grace snorted with laughter, but Tom’s eyes remained dark and domineering, causing her heart to thump loudly in her chest as she challengingly licked her lips, that slow trickle of arousal turning into a tsunami as he tugged at his own shirt and pushed it back off his shoulders impatiently.

“Grace…” he warned and she quickly pulled off her dress and necklace, letting them fall to the floor and revealing her nakedness underneath.

Tom’s eyes flickered from their steely gaze as his jaw clenched and Grace caught the look of feral need as they lowered to her erect nipples before he took a deep breath and growled “Turn towards the bed. And _don’t_ say a word…”

She did as she was told as Tom toed off his shoes and had his shorts off in record time.

Moving close behind her, he trailed his cool fingers from the base of her spine slowly up to the nape of her neck and back down again, causing Grace’s skin to break out in goosebumps and a low moan of pleasure to escape her lips. She instinctively leant her head back, her soft hair tickling Tom’s nipples and causing him to stifle his own moan before he slid one hand around and cupped her left breast, his right hand pushing her waist forward and bending her towards the bed.

Tom positioned Grace face down as he slid off his boxers, letting them pool at his feet.

Taking his cock in hand, Tom stroked it against her soaked slit and leant forward so his mouth was at her ear.

“You’re quite the little torment when you want to be, aren’t you my dear?”

Grace whimpered, unable to formulate words as Tom sought out her clit and continued to rub her with his hard length.

When she didn’t respond Tom growled again in her ear _“Answer me!”_

“Mmm… yes!”

“Yes what?” he purred, sliding his cock back up and down her soaking folds, gathering more of her arousal on his dick and nudging the bulbous tip just at her entrance.

“Yes… aah! Yes… I like… Ugh…. I like teasing you!”

Tom pinched her nipple hard just as he started to slide slowly - _desperately slowly_ \- into her velvety depths.

“Aah! Fuck!” she cried out and Tom bit back his own groan as she immediately clenched around him.

_Fuck!_

_He would never get used to how tightly her pussy grasped at his cock!_

_Nor did he ever want to!_

He continued to push until he hit resistance, his heavy balls pressing up against Grace’s clit. Stalling for a few seconds, he gave her pussy chance to stretch before pulling out quickly.

Grace started to moan lowly as Tom completely withdrew, but her breathy sounds turned into a loud groan as he snapped his hips and plunged his cock back hard and deep.

Tom repeated this punishing rhythm, grunting as he ploughed again and again into Grace’s swollen pussy. Just as she gasped “Oh God! Tom… _I’m so close!”_ he completely withdrew and released her breast, rolling her over and climbing up alongside her on the bed.

Grace growled in frustration, her mascara smeared eyes narrowing as she looked up at him smirking down at her.

“Oh well played Thomas! _Well played!”_ she hissed.

Grace bit back another groan as his cock dangled just inches from her lips and when Tom straddled her, leaning forward so that his dick grazed her bottom lip she stopped thinking altogether.

Instinctively she opened her mouth and darted her tongue along his tip, eliciting a low grunt of pleasure from Tom and a moan of appreciation from herself as she greedily began to lick her essence off his cock.

Tom stared down through hooded eyes in wonder as Grace lapped him clean, her tongue coming to a swirling halt at his tip, before she withdrew and licked her lips.

“Enough teasing Thomas… Just fuck me!” she bit down hard into her bottom lip as she dipped two of her fingers into her soaking folds before smearing the juices over Tom’s bottom lip.

Tom growled as he licked his lip clean, his eyes predatory as he guided her further up the bed.

 _“Please Thomas!_ Fuck me already with that _monster_ cock!” she whined.

"Open your legs..." he whispered, his whole demeanour suddenly changing as his hand glided down over her exposed skin.

" _Slowly_ " he purred.

Grace did as Tom asked, bending her knees and slowly parting them in invitation.

Tom knelt between them, looking down in appreciation as he saw how wet, how open – _how_ eager - she was for him, and it took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to just slide in to her welcoming heat.

He wanted to savour her, relish every second, knowing that this would be their last night together for some time.

And so - _much to Grace’s exasperation_ \- Tom leant down and grasped her hands, holding them gently above her head as he lowered his lips towards hers, only to shift them and teasingly trail his tongue along the shell of her ear, pausing briefly to breath softly into her earhole – eliciting a shudder from Grace - before wrapping his lips around her tender lobe and sucking.

“Mmm… oh Tom!” Grace gasped as his lips continued their descent, leaving behind in their wake the faintest tingle of her nerve endings from each butterfly kiss.

When he reached her collar bone he moved along its length, pausing at her suprasternalnotch and looking up into her limpid blue eyes with a tender smile before rubbing his nose up along the soft dip and kissing the slight divot in her chin.

Grace’s eyelashes fluttered closed but when Tom’s lips hovered over hers they opened, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

Tom stared down at her, eager to follow the path of her tongue with his own and yet still determined to eke out every last second of foreplay, wanting to commit every tiny detail to memory.  

Grace wriggled underneath him, growing impatient as he continued to just stare at her lips, before finally Tom’s brain snapped back into gear and he rubbed the tip of his nose back down to her clavicle and continued kissing with a feather light touch all the way back up to her other ear.

Again he sucked at her fleshy lobe, his hot breath making her shiver as he lowered his lips to her ear and whispered “I love you” before nuzzling into her neck and inhaling her scent.

Grace released a breathy moan as Tom moved further down her body, the same butterfly kisses leaving goosebumps in their wake as he finally reached her breasts.

Unusually for Tom he paid only a short time worshipping her nipples with his lips and tongue before pulling away, much to Grace’s moans of disappointment.

But her disappointment was short-lived as Tom moved back up towards her lips, this time pressing his naked body flush against Grace’s as he released her hands, taking her face in his own large palms and softly kissing her, his thumbs gently brushing away her dishevelled hair.

Grace’s blissful moans rang in his ears as he deepened the kiss, yet resisting her attempts to slip her tongue inside his mouth. Instead he sucked and nibbled at her bottom lip, his hands moving down to her hips, where his long fingers drew circles over the bare curves, revelling in the silky softness of her creamy skin.

Grace was a whimpering mess under the weight of him, unable – and moreover, _unwilling_ – to move.

_It was just so maddeningly good!_

She was so blissed out that she barely registered Tom’s body shifting slightly.

The first bump of Tom’s cock against Grace’s swollen pussy coincided with his tongue pressing against her gasping lips and as he worked his thick shaft back into her tight channel his tongue also claimed her mouth.

With their bodies connected in such exquisite unison, Tom leant back onto his haunches, pulling Grace up onto his lap and slowly rocked her back and forth, his glistening cock slipping in and out of her silky walls.

Tom glanced down to where they were joined and groaned into Grace’s mouth. It was a sight he would never get tired of.

Pulling away reluctantly from her mouth he licked his lips and whispered in a gravelly voice "Look baby... _look at us_ "

Grace looked down to where Tom’s thick, veiny length was glistening with her arousal just at her entrance, before letting out a deep moan as he suddenly plunged it back deep into her responsive pussy.

“Ugh… God… _Yes!”_ Grace gasped, wrapping her thighs tighter around Tom’s hips and starting to roll her own in time with his increasing thrusts. Her small hands made their way up to Tom’s head and she ran her fingers through his damp curls, tugging gently at them as she planted a searing kiss on his lips, before breaking away to groan loudly as Tom hit her sweet spot.

_It was as if Grace had suddenly lit the touch paper!_

Tom growled and set about a punishing rhythm, spurred on by the rippling effect of Grace's pulsing pussy. He knew she was close, the tension growing inside her as her muscles gripped him tighter and tighter as she arched her back.

Grace’s tits and Tom's curls bounced wildly in time with each thrust and she began to moan, a low, almost mewling sound at first which quickly grew louder. As she did so her hips ground harder into Tom’s vociferous thrusts and he replied with his own concerto of worshipping sounds.

“ _Fuck!_ Yes… baby… _Ugh_ … _Yes!”_ Tom groaned, one of his own hands reaching up to grab the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him as he fucked her _“Take it baby…_ this is what you’ve been waiting for, _isn’t it?”_

“Oh God… yes Tom…! _Yes!”_

Grace managed to bow her head slightly, capturing Tom’s thumb between her lips and started to suck it, eliciting a deep moan as she swirled her tongue over the tip before releasing it with a pop.

 _“Take it all!”_ Tom roared as Grace’s lipstick smeared mouth parted in a silent 'O'.

Grace clamped down on Tom’s twitching dick as they finally came. The crescendo of groans was replaced by their panting gasps against one another's lips as they rubbed noses, breathing in one another's exhausted, yet sated breathes.

“I love you…” Tom gasped before suddenly whispering “and I’m going to miss you so fucking much baby”

Grace gulped, unable to speak as tears started to fall onto Tom’s chest.

“Oh Grace, baby… please don’t cry” Tom’s voice choked as he tried his best to stay strong.

Grabbing her hands he squeezed them tightly “I love you so much, you know that, _don’t you?_ And we’ll be together again in the blink of an eye! Half term is only two months away and before you know it, it’ll be Christmas…”

Grace sniffled, trying to wipe at her eyes but unable to move her hand from within Tom’s tight grip. Despite his reassuring words it felt almost like he was anchoring himself to her in order to make himself believe them “and I’ll be just on the other end of the phone if you ever want to talk. Anytime baby. _Anytime…_ ”

“I kn… know” Grace let out a stuttering breath “but… but…”

“But nothing darling… we’re strong now, you and me. _Aren’t we?”_ Tom’s voice waivered just a fraction as his earnest eyes, now rimmed with his own tears, gazed down at her questioningly.

All Grace could manage was to nod, as another wave of tears started to fall.

_How was she going to cope without him here with her?_

He was _everything_ to her now. As her tears finally subsided she made a secret decision. When they both returned to Oxford at the end of October she would tell her best friend and the rest of the Hiddleston’s the truth.

_The truth being that she was almost certainly in love with Tom._

As the young lovers finally settled down in the bed, Tom’s arms wrapped around Grace in his usual protective way, and with his thumb idly stroking the bridge of her nose, Tom found himself wondering when they would next be able to spend their nights together.

*

_Little did he know then just how long that would turn out to be…_

 

**_~ End of Part Three ~_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by Disney, Spielberg and Oakley, the little shit! <3


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in 2016, Grace returns from the UNICEF party distraught and starts to remember how 1999 ended…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mega short intro chapter to Part 4 so bear with me... there WILL be a longer chapter along soon...
> 
> (Grace POV)

** PART 4 **

Grace tossed and turned in bed that night.

Seeing Tom again after all these years had sent her into a tailspin and despite her best efforts not to, reminiscent dreams of Edinburgh pervaded her confused mind.

For many years Grace thought she had successfully purged from her memory the events which had taken place over the weeks and months since Tom had left her that balmy September afternoon back in 1999.

She’d _had_ to in order to survive.

Years of therapy had taught her that much.

Instead, the only memories of Edinburgh she usually allowed into her conscious mind – and only _very_ rarely – were those of that blissfully happy week with Tom.

She knew it was stupid. Maybe even weird.

Almost certainly unhealthy...

But she kept those memories to remind her that anything _that_ seemingly perfect couldn’t possibly be. And that _nothing_ lasts forever. Perhaps more importantly, those memories served to remind her _never_ to open herself up to the heartache that would inevitably follow such halcyon days.

Overwrought with emotion and utterly exhausted, Grace _finally_ drifted off, her mind wandering and the memories she’d long since repressed starting to bubble back up to the surface…


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace remembers the month's following Tom's departure back in 1999...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace POV

 

Grace was exhausted. She had barely eaten in weeks.

As for sleep?

It seemed to elude her as soon as her head hit the pillow. She found herself lying wide awake staring at the ceiling, or tossing and turning, fighting with the desire to call Tom again.

She didn't want to appear desperate, but it was so hard!

She missed him _so_ much.

Her body craved him. She missed the way he looked at her, his eyes consumed with such joy and yet, paradoxically, a wicked hint of desire.

And _Lord_ , he'd been insatiable!

Not that she had minded of course. If she'd had _her_ way she’d have kept him locked up in her flat every second of every day and never let him leave for Cambridge.

_But he had left…_

Grace had never felt so consumed by any one person. So totally and utterly adored. Worshipped even.

Which is why she felt completely lost when Tom left.

The streets she'd walked through for over a year were now filled with new memories. Over there was the spot that Tom had, _allegedly_ , had to carry her back after his opening night - _she still wasn’t entirely sure what the hell had happened that night!_ The view of the castle from her tiny kitchen window forced her to remember all their stolen kisses in the Great Hall. She could no longer face her favourite little coffee shop – just looking at the sign brought back the memory of the coffee and pastry box Tom had brought her as a peace offering when she’d acted so weirdly with him that very first night. And as she walked down into the town centre her breath always caught as she saw the Scott Monument, the place where they’d shared their last kiss, Tom insisting that it would be easier for them both if he made his way the final few steps to Waverley station on his own.

It was also the place she’d last heard him tell her he loved her. The romantic irony of it being a memorial to Sir Walter Scott hadn’t been lost on either of them. Grace had desperately wanted to say the words back, but she had been too... too _what_ …?

_Too chicken shit!_

Things had escalated so fast. How was it possible to know if this was real love or just infatuation? She had no yardstick to compare it with. No other real experience other than with Joe and look how _that_ had turned out!

So she'd kissed Tom, passionately, intensely, hoping that her embrace would convey her feelings without her having to utter the scariest words in the world. At least just yet…

But when he'd left, she began to realise that what they’d shared was far more than infatuation. Her heart - _and her bed_ \- had never felt emptier.

Her flat was the worst reminder of that.

The first time she’d returned home, just after their emotional farewell, the scent of sex had still lingered heavy in the air. She’d stared forlornly at the broken dining table leg before sinking to her knees, tears falling freely as she fought the overwhelming desire to run back to the train station and follow Tom down to Oxford. She could still see the indent in the sofa where he liked to sprawl and cradle her against his chest as they read or listened to music. And she could still smell his presence everywhere in the air – that heady mix of soap, aftershave, fresh laundry and pure _man_.

But more than that, she missed his voice. The small flat seemed empty without his soothing words, his singing, and his joyful laughter to fill it…

That was partly why they had decided to buy mobile phones to stay in touch – the other being their agreement _, albeit reluctant on Tom’s part,_ to keep their relationship secret a little while longer - and so, having hastily bought them on the way to the station, Grace had tried to distract herself with setting hers up.  

It quickly became apparent that they should probably have done this a few days earlier, when Tom was still around, as she realised just how much of a technophobe she truly was. After spending almost an hour trying to figure out how to even get the battery inside the damn thing, Grace had been close to throwing the stupid thing at the wall.

 _Tom would have known how to do it…_ she thought, swiping frustrated tears from her eyes. But finally she’d had it charging, her fingers twitching to check if it was ready to use.  

The guide had said twenty four hours…!

_Screw that!_

As she’d waited, she’d tried to distract herself by changing into an old pair of pyjamas, somehow feeling strange reverting back to wearing clothes for bed. More tears fell as she realised this would have to her life again for the foreseeable future.

Just her, alone in her flat. No Tom to come home to, to hold her at night and make her feel special.

She’d sighed deeply and checked the mobile again, excited to see a welcome note on the screen.

_Finally!_

Two hours later, – after Grace realised exactly how much of a technophobe she _really_ was – and much debating about what to write, she had sent her first text message. 

 

> **_I miss you… I should have held you hostage up here with me! ;) – G x_ **

Looking at the clock she realised Tom was still travelling, which meant she probably wouldn’t hear from him now until tomorrow. With a deep sigh she set the phone back down to continue charging and climbed into bed, staring at the neatly folded T shirt that Tom had left – _or rather that she had hidden_. She had originally intended to sleep in it, but instead decided to keep it alongside her on the pillow, so she could breathe Tom in as she slept.

But as the weeks passed the scent faded, just like Tom’s presence.

Initially they’d spoken daily, sometimes for hours on end. And when they weren’t talking they were texting one another, sending silly little messages about whatever mundane things they were doing.

But once Tom started university and Grace returned to her own course, they struggled to maintain that same level of contact.

Tom especially became harder and harder to pin down. University was apparently pulling him in all directions. Grace tried to be patient. She remembered her first year and how hard that had been to adjust to, and _she_ hadn’t been studying at one of the most prestigious universities in the world.

She could tell from Tom’s weary late night conversations that he was struggling and it broke her heart that there was nothing she could do to help him. So she tried to be understanding.

His voice brightened whenever he spoke of the acting club he’d joined and how he had auditioned for a few more roles off the back of his success in Edinburgh.

He’d even managed to get an agent!

Grace was so desperately proud of him for that, but when he announced that he had got a part in a TV movie filming over the half term holidays she’d broken down.

It had been their first argument since the night Sarah had rang and Tom had subsequently questioned Grace’s commitment, and the irony wasn’t lost on Grace as she’d remembered she had wanted to tell Sarah that Tom and her were now a couple when they returned home.

Now Tom _wouldn’t_ be returning home.

When Grace found out that Sarah wouldn’t either, having arranged to stay at her father’s house over half term with Emma, Grace saw no real reason to even bother returning to Oxford herself. She didn’t relish being cooped up in her own family’s lonely house. There were no happy memories there to return to, and unsurprisingly her parents were still overseas, _somewhere..._

So Grace had resolved to stay in Edinburgh, cooped up in her tiny flat instead, which, though it no longer held Tom’s scent, somehow still held a tiny flicker of his presence.

She’d slammed the landline phone down on Tom that night and switched off her mobile.

** **

As she’d sat, wavering between tears and anger she’d wondered if there was more going on than Tom was letting on. She knew _she_ was being completely faithful, but what if there was someone else and Tom was just using this as an excuse?

However, when she’d turned her mobile back on the following day she’d regretted even entertaining that thought, as a barrage of concerned text messages and answerphone messages started to ping, one after the other.

Grace sniffled back tears as she listened to Tom’s emotional pleas to answer the phone and when she read his messages, one even threatening to give up his TV opportunity, she’d forced back her tears, realising how selfish she was being and rang him back immediately, only to then get _his_ answer-machine.

But Tom had called her later that day, apologising profusely for missing her call and explaining that he’d been in a lecture. Grace hadn’t been able to face university herself, worrying that Tom might have already called the production company.

Their conversation was fraught with apologies and tears as they each blamed themselves. When Grace finally put down the phone she’d had to run to the bathroom, a weird combination of loneliness, exhaustion, unease and sheer relief engulfing her and making her nauseous.

For the next couple of weeks that nausea seemed to follow her around like a wraith, an ominous reminder that she had almost lost Tom.

She tried to act perky and nonchalant when they spoke on the phone, but – _and it might just have been her imagination_ – she felt a strange disconnect now when they spoke. It was almost as if Tom couldn’t wait to get off the phone.

The week he was filming he was completely uncontactable on set. The new mobile phones they’d bought to stay in touch were useless. Tom had apparently been warned under pain of death not to keep it on his body during filming. Not that there was any bloody signal anyway!

Her concentration in class began to falter in the weeks that followed as thoughts of Tom pervaded every part of her. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly why, but she began to sense that Tom was actively avoiding her calls. She grew convinced that he was going to finish - _whatever the hell this even was_ \- with her, and it even crossed her mind again that he’d met someone else. As a result her body and mind were in perpetual turmoil, that nausea from a few weeks back settling once again in the pit of her stomach and beginning to overwhelm her mentally and physically.

She started skipping classes, unable to sleep at night and incapable of getting up in the morning.  At first it was just the odd one here and there but by the middle of November she was barely ever there.

Her tutor had of course noticed. Her usually excellent grades had slipped exponentially. So after making a rare appearance at Professor Summers lecture on Radical Enthusiasm, he'd asked her to stay behind and her stomach had lurched, already preparing for the worst.

The elderly professor had always had a soft spot for Grace. She’d been a hard worker and model student, naturally gifted in her ability to interpret a text and yet unfailingly diligent and focused. While quiet, she’d also possessed a natural confidence in class, not afraid to argue her opinion.

The wretched girl stood now in front of him was a meek shadow in comparison. Her hollow, sunken eyes had lost the sparkle they used to emit when she spoke so passionately about literature, her baggy clothes hung off her emaciated frame and she looked on the verge of tears.

Whatever was going on with this girl, she needed help, not more heartache.

Maybe he was going soft in his old age, but Professor Summers found himself unable to give her the warning he’d originally intended on threatening her with.

Instead, he’d sat her down in his office, getting his secretary to bring in a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits and urged her to eat and drink.

Grace had been shocked when her tutor’s secretary had set down the plate of Hob Nobs and tea. She’d thought he was going to throw her off the course for sure. So when, instead, he’d asked her about her family, nudging the plate of biscuits closer and closer to her shaking hands, she’d not known what to say.

Tears had started to fall freely down her cheeks and she’d swiped at them in frustration, biting back the accompanying waves of nausea and dizziness that she’d started to grow more and more accustomed to.

Realising it was likely because she’d not eaten anything that day – _or the day before for that matter_ – she’d picked up a Hob Nob and taken a tentative bite.

“Grace. I’m worried - _as are my colleagues_ – about you. You don’t look well. Have you seen a doctor?” Professor Summer had frowned and Grace had set down the biscuit she was half-heartedly nibbling on.

“No. I… well… I’m just struggling to sleep” Grace had sighed, wiping again at her eyes before taking a sip of her tea “Maybe I do need to see the doctor though? She might be able to give me something…”

Grace’s voice had trailed off as the professor had frowned and she’d shook her head abruptly.

“No! I just meant she might be able to maybe give me an herbal remedy or something! Not _drugs_ or anything!”

Grace had looked aghast, thinking the professor thought she was some sort of druggie!

The professor however, had smiled then and nodded slowly. Maybe the girl was right. A few good night’s sleep would certainly do her the world of good by the looks of her. There was obviously more to this than she was willing to tell him, but perhaps she at least now realised she needed help. He didn't want to push her too hard.

“Promise you will do that Grace?” her tutor’s penetrating gaze had revealed his concern and Grace finally realised she _had_ to do something before she fucked up her entire life.

“I promise” she’d nodded, suddenly feeling more alive and focused than she had in weeks.

“Wonderful!” the professor had clapped his hands together and looked at the clock.

“Well, I’d better not keep you any longer. If you need to speak to me again, you know where to find me Grace. _I mean that_ …” he’d smiled kindly, content that he’d done the right thing in not going in all guns blazing and upsetting the fragile girl any more than she clearly was already.

Grace had left her tutor realising that this had been a gentle kick up the arse and feeling somewhat hopeful that she could pull herself together.

*

It was an unseasonably bright and sunshiny morning that Saturday in late November when her world had _truly_ been turned upside down.

Since her talk with the professor the previous week Grace had done her best to focus on her studies more than Tom’s erratic behaviour, and to some extent she had succeeded.

But she was still miserable. Still sleep deprived.

Still hadn’t got around to making that doctors appointment...

Still sick with longing.

_God she missed Tom!_

Well, she missed _‘Edinburgh Tom’_.

 _‘Cambridge Tom’_ she wasn’t quite so sure about.

With a sigh Grace pushed open the door to the bookshop, praying for a quiet day.  She usually loved working in the quirky store but today she just wanted to sit in the storeroom and catalogue all day.

Unfortunately that was not to be.

Instead, Grace found herself behind the cash register for most of the morning having to force herself to be conversational with the steady influx of Christmas shoppers that had started to invade the usually quiet shop.

Abdominal cramps were her first sign that something wasn’t quite right. Grace clutched the right side of her tummy, bent double with the intense pain.

“Ugh!” she gasped out, fumbling for purchase against the counter top with her other hand and dropping the copy of _The Drowned World_ that she’d been half way through wrapping in the process.

“Shit!” Grace groaned out as the wave of pain passed, before flicking her eyes up at the customer, thankful that the man looked more concerned than angry about her swearing in his presence.

“Um, sorry about…” Grace bent down to retrieve the book, only for another searing pain to tear through her stomach, this time radiating all the way up to just under her breasts.

She gasped, her head violently spinning as everything around her started to blur. Fear and pain surged throughout her body and the last thing she remembered was the muffled sound of screaming as she slumped to the ground….

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know Tom didn’t get his agent until the second term at Cambridge, nor did he film his first TV role until 2000/2001 but for the purpose of narrative – the reasons for which will become apparent - I changed the timeline slightly...
> 
> For the young 'uns out there who might not remember a time before smart phones... In 1999 mobile/cell phones were still relatively new to the masses in the UK. They were also pretty crap (read shit) in comparison to today's smart phones, and yes, you really were told to charge the damn things for 24 hours (and even then the battery life was pants!)  
> Ah, memories!
> 
> Forewarning: the next few chapters are rough, i'm not going to lie. 
> 
> I will be tagging each individually with potential triggers but they will be relatively vague so as not become spoilers, so please proceed with caution. That being said, if anyone feels I SHOULD be specific please let me know and I will add fic tags. The last thing I want is to trigger any readers. 
> 
> As always, thanks for sticking with me this long, your encouragement and comments drive me on! <3


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Millennium Eve...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom POV

Tom sat nursing a bottle of lager, a deep frown set across his thin lips.

Grace hadn’t even fucking bothered to come home for Christmas! All the plans they'd made back in Edinburgh had meant nothing! It was all lip service.

And for what?

A few days of sex?

Tom felt sick at having been used - _again!_

He'd _believed_ her. Believed every damn word that had come out of her mouth – not that she had said _those_ words – oh she’d been fucking careful about that! But look at him! He’d been sucked right back in.

Fallen down the rabbit hole yet again!

The last three months had been some of the best and worst of his life. University was amazing - _when he was there_. His acting had taken off big time and he found himself desperately trying to balance his studies with an ever increasingly demanding acting career. He had been spotted early on in the term in a production of ‘ _A Streetcar Named Desire’_ and already labelled the student actor ‘most likely to succeed’, resulting in him to be pursued by Lorraine Hamilton who’d invited him down to London and told him she thought he had something special. He’d been incredibly flattered and also incredulous, especially given the calibre of her other clients! But it was at that moment that he finally allowed himself to _truly_ give himself over to his dreams of an acting career.

But it hadn’t been easy of course.

The first term at university was notoriously stressful for any student, but with the additional pressure of acting offers beginning to come in, Tom had found himself frantically working all the hours in the day - _and night_ \- just to keep up. In spite of Lorraine’s promise to find him auditions and work only in the holidays, inevitably every one so far had been during term time so he was constantly playing catch up.

And he was ashamed to admit it left very little time for Grace.

Matters came to a head when he got the part in his first movie – _only a TV movie, but a movie all the same!_ – and he was unable to keep his promise to meet up with Grace back in Oxford over the half term break. He’d known she would be disappointed, but nothing had prepared him for the belligerent anger that had been transmitted through her shaking voice down the receiver. Although she’d never outright said it, he could hear her disappointment and her inferences that he was putting his acting and studies before her.

She’d even suggested that _he_ wasn’t as invested in their relationship as _she_ was!

He’d had to bite his tongue at that, remembering her reluctance to say those three simple little words that he showered her with repeatedly.

Tom had done his best to reassure her, but being completely honest, he was growing more and more frustrated by how little she seemed to trust him. She questioned everything he told her, and to him it sounded like she thought he was making excuses not to see her.

_Didn’t she understand?_

There was nothing he’d like better than to spend the week with her. He missed her like crazy, and Jesus! He would much rather spend the holidays buried balls deep in her tight pussy than spend it in the middle of nowhere, trussed up in some period costume filming! He missed feeling the heat of her skin on his body, her lips on his, feeling her come around his cock as he worshipped her perfect breasts.

The number of times he’d wanked off to the memory of her sucking his dick, closing his eyes and pretending it was her, it was a wonder he hadn’t gone blind!

And he missed their conversations just as much. When they talked on the phone now it was stilted. Grace was always on the verge of tears and he was always petrified of saying the wrong thing – which as the weeks continued to pass seemed to grow more and more likely.

So - _and he hated himself for it_ \- he’d started to avoid some of her calls. Not all the time. And not every week. But when he had a deadline – _and he had a lot of those_ \- or when he was preparing for an audition or rehearsing for an acting job he’d turn off his mobile, figuring if it was _that_ urgent she’d ring Pembroke College’s reception. Because, _yes_ , she’d insisted on having _that_ number as well as his halls of residence’s number!

She’d called him several times a few weeks back, leaving cryptic messages, but he'd been working away on reshoots for the TV movie so he’d been oblivious. When he’d returned that evening to the little B&B the cast and crew were staying in, his mobile lay on the side blinking with a stack of static filled garbled messages that he could not understand. The mobile phone he’d bought with all the best intentions of feeling closer to her when they were apart almost got launched across the bedroom as he tried to call her but just heard static on the other end. He’d tried to call her back on her landline but the phone had just rang out. He was knackered after filming all day and now angry and frustrated, and he’d fallen asleep fully clothed on the bed, forgetting to set his alarm and oversleeping the next morning.

He was ashamed to admit that when he’d returned to university after half-term he’d been so desperately trying to catch up with two essay’s that he’d completely forgotten all about, that he clean forgot to ring Grace again until the weekend.

Again her number just rang out. He guessed she was pissed off with him. Rightly so he admitted. But then when another two weeks had passed and she still hadn’t bothered to answer he'd lost his temper. He'd called her house phone and left a drunken and pretty angry message... it was far from one of his finest hours.

That had been two week before Christmas. Not surprisingly she hadn’t called him back.

But he’d known he would be seeing her again in just over a week and had been confident that they could sort this whole ridiculous mess out once and for all when they were finally face to face.

_They had to!_

Because despite everything that had happened, Tom honestly couldn’t wait to see her. They had so much to talk about and he had decided that once they sorted all this nonsense out he was going to beg her to let him tell his family. The longer they carried things on clandestinely, the harder it would be to tell people. And he was sick and tired of secrets.

It just bred ill-feeling and confusion, and by God, they’d had enough of that over the past couple of months!

Besides, he wanted to be able to kiss Grace under the mistletoe. And bring in the new millennium with her!

So to say Tom was perplexed when she didn’t even show up for Christmas was an understatement. It was customary for Grace to be there. She had sat at the Hiddleston’s dinner table for Christmas for as long as Tom could remember.

Tom soon discovered that his sister was just as baffled as him, overhearing Sarah worriedly telling their mother that Grace hadn’t returned any of _her_ calls in weeks. He’d had to bite his tongue, not able to let his growing panic show in case awkward questions were asked. Grace had been insistent on him not telling his family about them.

It was all so fucked up though! There he was, hiding his own fears, all the while having to listen to Sarah and his mother talk in shushed voices.

As a consequence, Tom retreated to his room for much of the holidays, repeatedly trying to ring Grace, growing ever more worried and doing his best to tamp down the fierce anger that was also beginning to boil inside him.

It was one thing fucking him off…

But rejecting his sisters and his mother too? After everything they’d done for her over the years?

It was seriously messed up!

So it came as quite a shock to Sarah _and_ Tom when Grace _finally_ turned up on the Hiddleston’s back patio just before 8pm on New Year’s Eve, steaming drunk and insisting on dancing – _Yes, dancing…_ – to the godawful B*Witched version of [Does Your Mother Know](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNJm3n-n0rc) – that she was playing through the tinny speakers of her portable stereo.

Sarah cast a worried glance at her mother as she was dragged outside alongside Grace who was now staggering around, trying to keep in time with the music as she kept thrusting her finger in Tom’s direction.

Tom stood in the doorway, his hand gripping his bottle of beer and suddenly felt nauseous.

This wasn’t the Grace he knew and loved!

And this _certainly_ wasn’t how he’d envisaged telling his mother and sisters about their relationship!

_What the hell had gotten into her?_

Sarah took Grace’s hand, trying to slow down her friends frenetic movements and speak to her but Grace pulled away, frowning, and ran off towards the end of the garden, climbing on top of the bench and screaming at the top of her lungs:

_Well I can dance with you honey_  
If you think it's funny  
Does your mother know that you're out?  
And I can chat with you baby  
Flirt a little maybe…

“I… I… d…don’t know what to do!” Sarah looked at her mum, tears shining in her eyes “She’s been acting strange for a while now but I had no idea things were _this_ bad…”

Tom ran his fingers through his hair, gulping back his own anguished tears as he watched his sister break down in tears in front of him. He wasn’t altogether sure whether either of their tears were tears of anger, panic or just sheer relief that at least they knew Grace was alive.

Although he’d tried not to go _there_ , it had crossed his mind when Sarah had admitted she hadn’t heard from her either. He knew they usually spoke to one another at least a few times each week.

His eyes then flicked back to Grace, Just in time to watch, aghast, as she attempted to climb the back fence to her own garden, hiking her long black skirt up around her thighs.

Oh for fucks sake!

“Tom!” his mother must have noticed at the same time as he did and tried to mask the fear in her own voice “Get her down before she seriously hurts herself!”

Sarah turned back and watched in horror as Tom ran the length of the garden in lightning speed and stood underneath Grace, his hands raised pleadingly.

** **

 

“Gracie… Please…!” he shouted, his voice tremulous as he watched helplessly as she ignored him, clambering higher and higher.

“Oh for fuck sake!” he growled, climbing up onto the roof of the tree house and reaching out to grab her by the waist. Grace’s erratic demeanour was no match for Tom’s strength and he yanked her forcefully off the slippery fence and into his arms.

“Get off… get off me!” Grace kicked and screamed belligerently.

“Grace…” Tom tried his best to calm the angry confusion in his voice and soothingly whispered “Shhh… baby… it’s me… _Thomas_ …Grace, darling. I’m here…”

She suddenly went limp in his arms and he held her tight, clambering down awkwardly and seating her alongside him on the bench.

Sarah started to make her way down the patio steps but his mother stopped her, whispering something in her ear. The two women retreated inside, much to Tom’s surprise.

_Oh great!_

Tom sighed, rubbing one shaky palm over his face. This was _definitely_ not the way he’d intended on telling his family!

“Grace… Are you _okay_?” he whispered “How did you get here? And where the hell have you been? We’ve _all_ been worried sick!” Tom knew he was rambling but he had to get through to her. He had to make her understand!

Her irresponsible behaviour was _not_ okay!

People _cared_ about her.

_He_ cared about her!

Grace ignored Tom’s questions and suddenly hissed “Well… aren’t you just a proper little knight in fucking armour Thomas!”

Tom physically balked.

“What the bloody hell did I do Grace? And what the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouted, no longer caring if anyone heard.

“Me…?” Grace staggered upright, poking her finger hard into Tom’s pounding chest _“Me…?_ ” she repeated _“What’s wrong with me??”_

She swung for him then, narrowly missing his jaw and instead falling awkwardly onto the damp grass and groaning as tears started to cascade down her cheeks.

Despite his anger, Tom’s heart was breaking. Seeing the woman he loved – _still loved_ \- in such a crazed state was like a dagger to his heart. He knelt down alongside her and tried to help her up but again she pushed him away, staggering back to her feet and trudging over towards the side gate.

“Grace! You’re in no fit state to go off like this!” Tom shouted after her but she ignored him.

“Grace! You’re drunk! And you’re _definitely_ not yourself. _Grace!_ I think it might be best if you come back inside and sleep it off. We’ll talk in the morning…”

Grace stopped abruptly, her head slumping as the trembling hand she had reached out for the gate handle suddenly fell wearily down by her side in defeat.

_Sleep._

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly slept…

It was as this thought crossed her mind that two pairs of warm hands gently rested on her shoulders, their owners soothingly familiar voices guiding her back up into the house, past all the questioning looks from the other party guests, and up the stairs to Sarah’s bedroom.

Once seated on the bed, Grace’s eyes struggled to stay open.

“Grace… sweetheart” Diana Hiddleston cupped Grace’s hollow cheek, her kind eyes betraying her concern.

“What’s going on? Tell me darling. Whatever help you need we’ll get it for you”

“Sleep…” Grace mumbled wearily “I just need to sleep…”

“Okay darling. You get some sleep and we’ll talk again tomorrow. We all love you very much…”

Grace’s eyes flickered closed, a trail of tears escaping down her pale cheeks and Diana and Sarah watched on anxiously until Grace’s erratic breathing steadied.

“I think it’s probably best if we leave her to sleep in here tonight. You can bunk up with Emma and tomorrow we’ll get to the bottom of all this” Diana frowned “Go and get your brother and meet me in the kitchen. Maybe Grace said something to him…”

Sarah kissed her friend on the forehead and squeezed her hand, a soft moan escaping Grace’s lips. Then the two Hiddleston women left her to sleep.

*

Grace woke three hours later, grabbed her jacket and ran…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Reiteration of the previous chapter notes - I know Tom didn’t get his agent until the second term at Cambridge, nor did he film his first TV role until 2000/2001 but for the purpose of narrative, I changed the timeline slightly.
> 
> Forewarning, next chapter will be a few days as I will be away this weekend and uni is calling me. Sorry in advance <3


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Millennium Eve... (Grace POV)
> 
> PLEASE READ CHAPTER NOTE BEFORE PROCEEDING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please proceed with caution.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS for severe traumatic event, brief mention of miscarriage and tubal pregnancy and graphic depiction of traumatic medical complications.

It had been surprisingly easy to escape the Hiddleston’s house. The Millennium party downstairs had been in full swing when Grace had woken, aching and disorientated.

But when the alcohol fuelled haze had begun to clear, and memories of her appalling behaviour came crashing back to her she had cringed, fresh tears leaking down over the dried tracks on her cheeks.

Tip-toeing down the stairs, just her jacket in hand, Grace had easily crept past Emma, ensconced behind some distant relative. Tom had been nowhere in sight but she’d frozen as she’d caught a glimpse of Diana and Sarah deep in hushed conversation in the kitchen.

That had foiled her plan of slipping out the back way and over the garden fence.

Instead Grace had sneaked out of the front door instead and ran as fast as her exhausted legs could carry her, praying that she wasn’t followed.

Her legs shaky, she’d barely made to the corner at the end of the street before she’d had to stop and catch her breath. She had no idea where she was going but as the alcohol continued to wear off she’d begun to realise what a huge mess she’d left behind. No way would Diana want her in her house again after she’d nearly ruined her party. Sarah was no doubt just as pissed off with her.

_And as for Tom…_

Grace’s lip trembled as she recalled the reason she hadn’t made it back down in time for Christmas, knowing that in order to have explained _that_ to Tom - _or Sarah_ \- would mean she would have to unleash the anger and anguish she’d been holding in for weeks now.

Unable to face returning to her own empty house – her parents citing some Y2K nonsense as their reasons for not travelling home _this_ time – Grace continued walking.

She had no idea how long she’d been walking for until she found herself alongside Castle Mill Stream in the shadow of Oxford Castle. The city centre was teeming with Millennium revellers click clacking in their glittery heels and party dresses and Grace suddenly felt completely out of place in her Converse and shapeless dress. Figuring the best thing to do would be to get out of ‘Dodge’ as soon as possible, Grace headed towards the bus station.

_She might as well just go straight back to Edinburgh now, seeing as she had well and truly burned her bridges here in Oxford…_

Self-consciously tugging her thin jacket tighter around her shivering body, Grace continued walking. The racket of lively drinkers combined with the smashing of a beer bottle being cheered somewhere close by caused her to jump in fear as the festivities reached fever pitch. But more troubling, as she approached the deserted bus station her brain functionality _finally_ seemed to kick in and she realised just how stupid her ill-conceived plan was.

 _It was the fucking Millennium!_ There wouldn’t _be_ any buses out of Oxford anytime soon!

Grinding to a halt, Grace looked around desperately.

Suddenly everything seemed much bigger, brasher, noisier and far more intimidating for a single woman roaming the streets on her own, and Grace felt the panic rise sharply up in her chest.

Nausea overwhelmed her and she vomited, bending double and clutching her pounding chest and aching stomach as she tried to gasp for air before attempting to tamp down another wave of queasiness.

She wretched again, one hand leaving her chest and seeking out some support from the nearby lamppost. Taking a few moments to finally fill her lungs with fresh air, the final remnants of the alcohol finally evaporated and she looked around for a safe haven.

Most of the bars and clubs had bouncers on the doors, and seemed to be adhering to a strict dress code but she noticed a small pub, where the door seemed to be unguarded as the solitary bouncer dealt with an altercation, and slipped inside unnoticed.

Once inside she wasn’t entirely sure what she was supposed to do. She was in no mood to party, no fit state to drink and besides, the pub was packed to the rafters with people. Realising the chance of getting to the bar for even a glass of something non-alcoholic was going to take forever Grace pushed through the dense crowd in search of the toilets. She would freshen herself up there and make a new plan. A crazed giggle escaped her lips at the ridiculousness of that.

_Yeah, ‘cos her plans so far had been tip top, hadn’t they?!_

Rolling her eyes at herself and ignoring the odd looks she got from a few people, Grace located the toilets. In stark contrast with the bar area, the washroom was deserted and she relaxed, taking the opportunity to swill her mouth out, before gulping down some cold water and splashing her face.

As she straightened back upright she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and her already pallid face visibly paled.

 _Was that really her in the mirror?_ It was no wonder Tom had looked at her like she was some sort of monster!

_Tom…_

Grace’s hands started to shake and the nausea overwhelmed her again.

Pushing open one of the cubicle doors, she staggered inside, locked the door and stood over the toilet, waiting for the inevitable.

However as she stared down at the toilet bowl, her eyes caught an alarming glimpse of something red between her feet and the nausea disappeared, only to be replaced by confusion.

And more than a hint of growing dread …

Grace watched, almost hypnotised as blood slowly dripped down onto the pale cream tiles.

_What the hell…?_

She grabbed at the toilet roll dispenser, filling her hand with a thick wad of paper, then slowly pulled her skirt up to her thighs and checked her underwear.

Grace's breath caught as she gasped at the sight. The towel she’d been wearing was sodden, huge clots of blood filling the wadding.

She immediately felt dizzy, the sight of so much blood making her feel nauseous and lightheaded at the same time. She clutched the toilet roll dispenser for support, stuffing the handful of toilet paper tightly between her thighs.

_She needed to get back home._

_Back to the Hiddleston’s._

_They'd know what to do..._

But wait...

They wouldn't want her back there now, would they?!

As she went to pull her underwear back in place the already soaked wad of paper fell to the floor with a heavy slap as drops of blood rained down in its wake.

For a quiet moment Grace just stared down, almost trance like as her life blood painted the tiled floor deep crimson and she wondered if this was how she was going to die.

All alone, in a puddle of her own blood, as the old Millennium drew to a close.

Grace could hear the cheers of revellers just outside the door, counting down the seconds until the New Millennium and new beginnings, and when she looked back down at the floor something irrationally sparked inside her brain, causing her to panic about the mess she was making.

Grabbing more wads of toilet paper she started to swipe at the puddle on the floor. Yet all she managed to accomplish was an even bigger mess.

And still the blood continued to fall like crimson raindrops.

Grace’s head was growing more and more fuzzy, and she slumped down onto the toilet seat in defeat, her thighs slick as she leant her head against the cool stone wall and closed her eyes.

Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute or two it would all just go away...

 _It was all just a dream_ , she told herself.

Nightmare somehow seemed much more appropriate...

No...

_Just a dream._

When she opened her eyes she would be back at the Hiddleston’s. Her best friend, Sarah would be there. And Diana, and Emma.

And Tom.

_Her sweet, sweet Thomas._

Was he still  _her_  Thomas though?

Yes.

_This was all just a dream._

_Just a dre-_

"Hey! Hey are you okay in there?" The sound of a frantic voice and a fist hammering on the door made Grace start.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

 _Just a dream._..

"Shit! Kate? Can you see over the top?"

"Gimme a minute! These heels were hardly made for climbing toilet booths..." the irritated voice of another woman drifted through Grace’s subconscious before suddenly becoming more frantic than her friend's.

"Oh shit! Jen? We need a fucking ambulance now. _Right. Fucking. Now!!_ "

Grace heard clicking footsteps, then a door slamming followed by a scream somewhere in the distance and then more voices.

She lost track of how long she was sat there, head leant heavily now against the wall, her skin cold and clammy as she literally felt the blood draining from her body.

The girl - _Kate was it?_  - was talking to her, her panicked voice doing little to sooth Grace’s growing fear.

She knew she was shaking but she couldn’t seem to stop. She closed her eyes again, imagined Tom’s strong arms were holding her, his hot body warming her chilled skin, but then reality chose that perverse moment to hit her as the ambulance crew bundled into the cramped room, calling out to her.

"Can you open the door love?" Came the voice of a man.

_Tom?_

_He'd come for her!_

"Thomas?" Grace slumped forward, her shaking, bloodied hand reaching out and slowly releasing the lock.

"No darling. My name's Simon. I'm a paramedic. Is Thomas who you're here with? Do you know where he is?"

No...

It wasn’t Thomas.

And she wasn’t  _with_  Thomas.

She was alone.

_As always…_

She opened her mouth to answer but still nothing came out.

"Can you tell me your name love?" A different voice now, female came from down by her side. The woman was holding Grace’s bloody wrist, checking her pulse.

Grace watched wordlessly as the two medics worked almost in a blur of dark green around her, almost like in a dream - _maybe this was part of the dream too?!_ \- asking question after question. What was her name? When did the bleeding start? Did she have any medical conditions? Could they contact someone? Who was Thomas?

Grace forced her voice, mumbling a faint "Grace"; "dunno…? A while"; and "I was pregnant but it's gone now... I've made such a mess. I tried to clean it up... I’m so sorry… Thomas? No… _nobody_. And no. There was no-one else to fetch. No one to care. I’m alone… completely alone…” before the tears started to fall and her teeth started to chatter again.

Her body felt heavy and weightless all at the same time.

It made no sense of course, but it was how she felt.

She couldn’t even lift her own arms when the paramedic transferred her from the bloodstained toilet seat to the portable transit chair with ease.

The female paramedic - _Patty was it?_ \- told Grace to hold the thick surgical wadding they'd placed between her thighs to stem the bleeding as tightly as possible but her hands were shaking far too much and she couldn’t seem to summon the strength to apply any real pressure.

Her entire body was trembling, so Patty took over, stooping down and applying pressure as she was wheeled out of the pub, a mass of drunken revellers watching her like she was some curious exhibit from a freak show before returning to their partying just as quickly.

And that's when she started to laugh hysterically.

Adrenaline began to pump through her body as all the voices blurred into a cacophony of noise.

Her head must have lurched forward as Patty’s voice filtered through her confused brain.

"Grace! Stay with us love..."

"I can't stop shaking!" Grace looked up at the woman, holding up her trembling hand with a confused snort of laughter, and Simon looked at Patty before nodding. The next thing Grace knew, the lights were flashing and the siren blaring on the ambulance.

"Oooh. We're flashing!" Grace giggled again, starting to ramble about all sorts of nonsense before suddenly stopping and looking Patty straight in the eyes, her voice resigned.

"I'm bleeding still, aren't I?"

The paramedic couldn't hide her frown as she moved the wadding slightly. But worse, Grace could _feel_  the clots literally passing through her body.

"Grace. We're going to get you to the hospital as soon as we possibly can love. Just try to keep taking deep breathes, okay?"

Grace had been almost numb up to this point, but as she actually felt the ambulance increase its speed, her heart began to pump even faster, the spectre of fear beginning to cast its icy fingers over her ailing body again.

Now she felt frozen. Her teeth chattered even harder and Patty grabbed another blanket. The paramedic was talking soothingly to her but Grace tuned out as a torrent of tears leaked from her eyes, wondering what she had ever done that was  _so_  horrendous in this or a former life to warrant two high speed ambulance trips in just over a month?

As she lay there, teeth still chattering and vaguely aware of Patty’s hand stroking hers, she allowed her exhausted mind to remember the last time she was in a similar position…

*

_Aileen, her boss from the bookshop, had been sat by her bedside when Grace had finally come around that fateful November night, finding herself lying in a harsh white room, surrounded by machines and attached to various drips._

_She’d tried to sit up but the crippling pain had been overwhelming._

_Aileen had immediately called for assistance and very gently stroked Grace’s hand, while a team of nurses had buzzed around like a hive of wasps, checking stats and increasing the speed of the fluids being infused into her frail body._

_Grace had just laid there, motionless, confused, and drifting in and out of consciousness._

_The next time she’d woken she’d been alone._

_She’d laid there again, unable to gather a single coherent thought as she’d tried to remember how she’d ended up in this damn room. The only thing she’d known with any real certainty was that she must be in hospital._

_A doctor had arrived shortly afterwards, calmly explaining that she’d collapsed due to a highly unusual presentation of an advanced tubal pregnancy, located in the Pouch of Douglas, which had resulted in the removal of a ruptured fallopian tube._

_Grace had switched off at the word pregnancy._

_No._

_They’d got that wrong for a start!_

_She couldn’t have been pregnant._

_She had always been meticulous about taking her pill on time, even though her original reason for taking it had never been as a contraceptive._

_Having spent four years with cripplingly heavy periods, it had been prescribed to ease those symptoms and had worked remarkably well. So well in fact, that Grace couldn’t remember the last time she’d even had a period, much less a heavy one!_

_Oh…_

_That might have explained the lack of periods._

_But they’d told her she had been nearly thirteen weeks pregnant. If that was true shouldn’t she have been able to tell? Shouldn’t her body have told her, if only by putting on weight?_

_Grace had lost nearly two stone since she’d last seen Tom…_

_Tom…_

_It hadn’t made any sense. And how the fuck was she supposed to explain any of this to Tom when she couldn’t get her head around any of it herself?_

_Grace had felt like she’d lost a part of herself that day. She’d felt like she’d lost a part of Tom too. How would he ever forgive her for that? She wasn’t sure she would ever forgive herself._

_She couldn’t force that burden on Tom._

_Not now._

_Not when it seemed to be over between them anyway._

_Yet again she’d been reminded how inadequate she truly was in every way. A simple thing like contraception. Something that she’d persuaded Tom to put his full trust in her for. And she’d fucked that up!_

_Most sickening though, her inadequate body had rejected their baby._

_Their baby…_

_Regardless of the terrible timing, the idea that her body could play such a cruel trick on her just made her feel even less worthy of anyone’s affection._

_It really had been a truly bitter pill to swallow._

_In effect, it had been the confirmation of what she’d long since feared._

_She really was unworthy of any kind of love or happiness. Both were so fleeting in her life._

_What really was the point of even trying anymore?_

_It was with that fatalistic thought that she’d taken the coach back down to Oxford on New Year’s Eve, intent on closing this sorry chapter in her life once and for all._

_Her bloodwork had still been all over the place before she’d left Edinburgh, her physical and psychological wounds far from healed. But despite her gynaecologist’s advice, and fuelled with several bottles of cider as Dutch courage, she’d made that fateful 400 mile journey back home._

_At least the place she used to call home…_

_Now?_

Now _that_ was all fucked up too!

_Now she wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever be welcomed there again._

_Now she no longer had a home anywhere._

_Not Edinburgh, surrounded by ghosts of her summer of love and haunting reminders of her tragic loss._

*

And not now in Oxford either, where her happy childhood memories with the Hiddleston’s had been all but obliterated, only to be replaced by those of her disgusting lack of gratitude to the _only_ people who had _ever_ truly loved her.

And as if that wasn’t enough, now she was being dealt yet another cruel – _yet perhaps castigating_ – blow to her already frail body.

Grace wept silently, Patty mistaking her tears for fear.

“Grace. Are you sure there’s no one we can contact for you?” Patty asked again.

Grace shook her head, immediately regretting it as dizziness overwhelmed her. In a weak voice she barely recognised as her own she whispered “No. There’s no-one here for me… No-one at all.”

She was no longer afraid. Now she was just resigned to the fact that her body hated her just as much as everybody else did.

By the time they reached the Accident and Emergency department of the John Radcliffe hospital, Grace was in a contemplative mood. But when Patty and Simon reeled off her stats, vague medical history, and lack of contacts to the on-call consultant she unexpectedly began to giggle again, almost deliriously.

"Do you know your blood type Grace?"

"It's red! And there’s lots of it coming out of me!"

The consultant frowned as the nurse noted something down on the clipboard and then he’d stepped away into the corner of the room, talking in hushed voices to another nurse. But Grace could just make out his words “Get as much universal blood as you can for now… and be quick about it!”

She tried to stay lucid after that.

_She really did…_

But as the consultant examined her with a team of nurses frantically trying to find any veins so that they could cannulate her, fear overwhelmed her once more.

"I feel dizzy... and really,  _really_  cold" Grace tried to breathe through her chattering lips, rapidly losing consciousness.

Quick as a flash the bed was tipped 45 degrees, positioning Grace’s legs up in the air, and her head near the ground. A sudden warmth enveloped Grace as several layers of heated blankets warmed her shivering body, and she came back around just in time to hear frantic voices talking around her.

Something cold began to creep into her body, and the nurse quickly apologised, explaining that they hadn’t had time to warm the transfusions of blood platelets and plasma.

"Stat!"

Grace giggled again.

"Oh crap! It must be bad! That's what they say on ER when people are dying!" she snorted.

The on call consultant looked at her in bemusement.

"Well we're trying to make sure that doesn't happen sweetheart. But whatever  _is_  going on, it's serious, so we need you to sign these papers and then we'll get you down to theatre and find out exactly what it is and fix it. Okay?” Grace stared into the consultant’s kind, but worried, eyes as he continued “There's a chance you may have to go to ICU afterwards, so just to prepare you, if that’s the case you’ll see a lot of machines and wires around you. We can't be certain until we see exactly what’s causing the bleeding. But we're going to look after you. I know it sounds scary but rest assured we will do everything we can. Do you have any questions Grace?"

Tears started to roll down Grace’s face as reality truly hit her and she signed the papers blindly, shaking her head. Her body started to tremble again as the doctor faded from her vision.

"Grace... Grace love? Stay with us! Grace..?"

"Someone needs to maintain pressure! Fast!"

Grace felt the weight of someone climbing above her onto the bed.

And then finally...

_Silence..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an intensely personal chapter, and I realise it's not for the faint-hearted but if you made it this far thank you! <3


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace is struggling to deal with the events of the past few months...
> 
> PLEASE READ CHAPTER NOTE BEFORE PROCEEDING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for brief mention of ectopic pregnancy, miscarriage, trauma and depression.
> 
> Mainly Grace POV

 

Despite Grace’s years of loneliness before her path had crossed with that of the Hiddleston’s, nothing would ever come close again to the sense of complete and utter emptiness Grace felt as she lay, utterly alone, _yet again_ , in a stark white hospital room. The only noise that permeated the silence was the erratic beeps coming from her own heart on the monitor and the low hum coming from the infuser, supplying her body with life-saving fluids.

In spite of her bravado and blatant lack of self-awareness of her grave situation when she’d been admitted, she’d been genuinely frightened.  

Although the doctor’s had never said as much, Grace knew she’d been losing copious amounts of blood when she’d been rushed in. She’d been able to _feel_ it. Flashbacks of lying on the trolley as the team of doctors and nurses had worked around her, catching only scraps of their hectic conversations as lists of drugs and symptoms were repeated over and over, came back to her every time she closed her eyes.

She slipped in and out of sleep.

Not _real_ sleep.

Not the sleep of the peaceful.

No. This was the drug induced kind of sleep and every time she woke she was more confused, angrier with her body, more frustrated that the doctors wouldn’t let her leave and even more exhausted. 

She would find herself having heated arguments with the surgeon and Janine, one of her nurses.

Her mind kept playing tricks on her, taking her back weeks in time and making her question – _again_ – what had happened to her in November.

“But… but… I was on the pill! I… I couldn’t have been pregnant!” She shook her head, immediately regretting that decision as nausea overwhelmed her again.

Gulping down a breath she looked hopelessly from Janine to the surgeon and back again.

“Grace? Do you remember why you’re in the hospital this time?” the surgeon - _Mr Hamid was it?_ – asked in a cautious voice.

She gulped back a sob and nodded _– this time much more hesitantly_ \- before continuing on her rant.

“You’ve got this wrong! I took the pill every day! _Every damn day!_ I never missed a single bloody one! Not even when I was on holiday. Damn it, I even got up at the ass crack of fucking dawn to make sure I was taking it at the same time as I would normally take it here!”

Now she was angry! What was the point in telling someone to do that if it didn’t even fucking matter?

Janine looked worriedly at the surgeon who shook his head, before looking back at Grace apologetically and shrugging her shoulders.

“No contraception is 100 per cent effective I’m afraid Grace. There are lots of factors that could affect efficacy: reliability of patient; sickness; interactions with other medications…” she started to tick them off on her fingers.

“But you don’t understand!” Grace interrupted, her eyes welling up with angry tears again “I was _so_ careful… I would never have taken that risk. Not with _him_ …” her voice trailed off as the tears started to fall and the nurse sat down beside her bed and rubbed her hand.

“Do you want me to ring _him_ for you? What’s his name Grace? I could get him down here sweetheart? You shouldn’t be going through all this alone…”

 _“No!”_ Grace shouted “No! He’s… erm… he’s not from around here…” she lied, unable to face Tom again in this state, and after everything that had already happened between them.

He would think she’d somehow deceived him. After all, she’d been the one who’d told him he didn’t need to use a condom. She’d known that had been a foolish decision! She wasn’t stupid, she knew the risks of STD’s. And yet she’d felt safe enough with Tom to take that risk. As it had turned out there had been no risk – _not of STD’s at least_ – given that she later discovered that Tom had been a virgin, just like her.

Not that _he’d_ known that of course…

Fresh tears started to fall as she remembered the day he’d told her, a deep pain settling in her chest as she recalled how much she’d wanted to tell him that she was a virgin too.

But as ever embarrassment - _or was it pure vanity Grace?_ – had prevailed and she’d kept her lips sealed.

Tom had had her up on such a pedestal that she was terrified that if he knew the truth he’d start to wonder why her so-called ex-boyfriend had rejected her as well. Grace sobbed at the mess she’d made of everything, just because she’d been too scared to reveal the real her to Tom, when he’d been so open and honest with her.

Janine looked up at the surgeon questioningly, then back down at the sobbing young woman. She could tell Grace was scared.

_But of what?_

Dear God, please don’t let this be another violent relationship. She’d seen enough of those over the years and this poor girl looked truly tormented.

“Okay… well how about family?” Janine soothed, not immediately noticing the way Grace bristled at that question.

“No… nobody…” she sniffled with a dejected sigh “nobody except my parents and they don’t give a flying fuck! So… yeah… _nobody!_ ”

The venom with which she spat that out of her mouth surprised the nurse and she patted Grace’s hand, not wanting to push the frail girl any more just now. She was already having to deal with recovering from two traumatic operations in quick succession. And one horrendously traumatic revelation.

Looking back up at the surgeon Janine shook her head and he left.

Whatever was going on in this girl’s life, she’d been through enough for one day.

*

Four nights later, sometime after her evening dose of medication and lights out, Grace lay propped up in bed, fighting off her body’s attempts to fall asleep. She'd been moved out of ICU three days ago and had been told that providing her stats were satisfactory in the morning, she would be released.

But she was still desperately trying to get things straight in her head.

This wasn’t right!

She shouldn’t be here!

How could someone be _this_ unlucky? Failed birth control, relationship breakdown, ectopic pregnancy, emergency surgery, a ‘million-to-one infection’ resulting in a ‘catastrophic’ haemorrhage…

Grace mentally counted each horrible thing off in disgust.

Why the fuck was all this happening to _her?_

_Wasn’t any one of those things more than enough for a person to have to deal with?_

With a deep sigh as tears began to fall, Grace decided this must be some evil plan to pay her back for hurting Tom after they’d first slept together. It was either that or she’d seriously fucked up in a previous life!

She knew she wasn’t perfect, but _really?_ Did she deserve _this_ much punishment?

She sniffed back more tears and tried to get comfortable. The catheters in her arms and hands, the multiple bruises from where the medical team had fought to find a vein, and her laparotomy wounds put paid to true comfort, but Grace finally settled in a position where she could rest with the minimum of discomfort.

Every time she closed her eyes she saw him.

_Tom…_

She gulped back another sob, wishing things had played out differently. She should have known though that it could never work.

It wasn’t just the age gap.

Or the distance.

Or the potential issues with her best friend and Sarah’s family.

No. The simple fact was that Tom was too good for her. The past couple of months had well and truly shown her that.

Tom had such a bright future ahead of him. And her? Well, the likelihood now was that she wasn’t even going to finish university!

As more tears slid down her gaunt cheeks at that realisation, Grace closed her eyes, wishing above everything else that she could be anywhere but in this lonely hospital bed…

 

_“I love you!” Tom murmured, pressing kisses to her shoulder and pulling her closer into his warm embrace._

_Grace moaned and curled up into him, pressing her back into the warmth of his chest and whispered “I’ve missed you… So much!”_

_Tom shushed her, his rough thumb pad softly brushing across her forehead before idly stroking up and down the bridge of her nose, just like he’d done on their final night together in Edinburgh. Grace sighed blissfully, the tension in her body finally uncoiling as he whispered soothing words, filled with adoration._

 

“Morning Grace! Looks like you slept really well last night” Janine’s voice made her jump.

Grace looked around, disorientated and in search of Tom.

The realisation that it had been just a dream hit her hard in the gut and Grace gulped back a heart-breaking sob.

“Oh Grace! Sweetheart!” Janine covered Grace’s shaking hand with her own and gently squeezed it, looking down with deep concern at the young girls anguish.

It broke her heart to see patients like this. But this one was as stubborn as an ox. She refused everyone’s help and advice, insisting she was okay. She was due to be discharged today and Janine was deeply concerned for her welfare.

While her physical wounds were now healing well, the same could not be said for her mental scars.

But she was classed as an adult, and the reality was that they needed the bed.

Grace had been referred for bereavement counselling in Edinburgh, having made plans to travel back up to Scotland on her release - _much to Janine's concern_ \- telling the medical staff that Edinburgh was her home address.

With her GP checking out and still no contact from the next of kin listed for Oxford, reluctantly the hospital had no other choice than to allow her to leave.

And so, after breakfast and a final appraisal by the surgeon, Grace was discharged with just the clothes she'd been admitted in - although Janine had ensured they'd been laundered for her, finding Grace's bank card and a key shoved in the pocket of her denim jacket - and a letter for her GP and a bag of medication.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stuck with me on after the last chapter, I know it's been grim reading but sometimes life is this rubbish. My motto after similar events became "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" but it did take me a while to get to that. Grace has a little way to go yet... Love to you all <3


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ CHAPTER NOTE BEFORE PROCEEDING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace POV
> 
> Please proceed with caution.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS for brief mention of severe traumatic event, miscarriage, allusion to infertility, mental breakdown and allusion to suicidal thoughts.

Grace was barely even able to get through the days - let alone weeks - after being released from hospital. Once more ensconced in her Edinburgh flat, this time it became her prison.

Those haunting echoes of Tom’s time there – _amongst them the T-shirt that had long since lost his scent, and the abandoned table leg Grace still hadn’t fixed_ \- served as a painful reminder that she'd had someone once.

Someone who’d cared.

Or rather someone who’d _said_ he cared

But he'd lied.

They _always_ lied…

And they _always_ left.

Her head hurt so badly. Her heart even worse. She couldn’t function. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the house.

She couldn’t breathe.

When the appointment letter for counselling had arrived, Grace had stared at the letterhead almost in a trance before tossing it straight in the bin, unwilling – _or unable_ – to force herself to dredge those painful memories back up again.

She retreated back into her shell, unable to openly speak about the events that had led to such a traumatic outcome.

Her self-enforced prison paradoxically also became her safe haven.

Behind that front door she was safe.

Nothing, and _nobody_ could touch her…

Days turned into weeks as Grace sat in silence in her lonely flat, the only sound coming from the TV or the pitter patter of raindrops against the window. She barely ate, surviving on canned goods and frozen waffles once the fresh food she’d bought ran out.

Her voice grew weak from lack of use. She’d lost her mobile somewhere in her drunken daze in Oxford that fateful New Year’s Eve, and on the rare occasion that her landline now rang, she ignored it, tears flowing freely down her hollow cheeks as once familiar, friendly voices now spoke in clipped and guarded tones.

But never Tom’s.

_Not any more…_

Tom had stopped calling.

_How could something which had seemed so real turn out to be nothing to him?_

The thought again crossed her mind that he’d met someone else down in Cambridge - someone brighter, prettier, and with far less emotional baggage.

That would hardly be difficult!

_She could probably dance as well!_

Grace laughed bitterly to herself as tears streamed down her face and she finally realised she'd lost _everything_ and _everyone_ she cared about.

She’d been right all along!

She should never have gotten involved with Thomas William Hiddleston!

_Fuck you Hiddleston!_

But even her anger was hollow.

She knew deep down this was all her own stupid fault.

Not Tom’s.

Not Sarah’s.

Not Emma’s or Diana’s or James.

All of it was down to her.

Pathetic, worthless Grace.

So fucking worthless that even her own parents couldn’t – _or wouldn’t_ \- love her!

How could she expect anyone else to?

She had never been anything but a failure to them.

_Well, that would definitely be written on her epitaph now!_

Grace stifled a sob, before gulping back her tablets, praying they would finally make the pain go away…

*

The letter had arrived on a cloudy Tuesday in early February, registered post. At first Grace ignored the knock at her door, but when it persisted she grew angry and stumbled across the lounge rasping “Fuck off!” in her hoarse voice.

“Charming!” The person on the other side of the door shouted back.

“Look. I know you’re in there now and I’ve got a letter that needs signing for. Can you not just save me trekking back up seven flights of stairs love?”

With a resigned sigh, Grace shuffled to the door, pulling her robe tightly around herself before unlocking, then wearily pulling the heavy door open.

The postman visibly blanched as Grace held her gaunt, shaking hand out to sign for the letter.

He’d been delivering to these block of flats for several years, and he’d seen this young woman many times on the stairs in passing.

Or rather, a _version_ of her.  

The young woman he _used_ to pass on the stairs had been shy - but pleasant and well-mannered - and had always had a smile for him. She’d been a pretty little thing too, reminding him in many ways of his own daughter, although his Annie had red hair.

But _this_ … this _waif_ skulking in the darkened doorway in her oversized pyjamas and dressing gown, with tangled dirty hair and dark bags under her hollowed eyes was a mere shadow of that vibrant young woman.

The postman held the letter out to her, his face now a mask of deep concern.

“Are… Are you okay?” he forced himself to ask, knowing he had no right to probe but unable to just let her retreat back inside without at least voicing his concern. If it had been Annie he would _pray_ someone would do the same after all.

Grace gulped back the tears which seemed to be omnipresent and merely nodded, mumbling a weak “Thanks” before quickly turning, leaving the door to close by itself as she stared, almost trancelike, down at the post mark of the letter in resignation.

She knew what it was going to say even before she opened it – _she’d had enough warning answerphone messages and letters that she hadn’t even bothered opening_ \- but still, reading in black print that she really was a failure, even at something deemed academically inferior by her parent, was just another punch in her gut.

There was no coming back from this now.

She’d finally lost _everything_ …

Her parents.

Her best friend.

The love and respect of her long-time surrogate family.

The man she’d _thought_ she loved. And who’d said he loved her.

_Their baby…_

Maybe her fertility.

And now her place at university, along with any possibility of her dream of a career in teaching.

Grace slumped to the lounge floor, great huge sobs wracking through her tightening chest as despair engulfed her.

Her head hurt so fucking much! Her surgery ravaged body hurt even more. The two measly pills she’d taken that morning barely even registered any relief.

Grace gripped huge tufts of her matted hair and started rocking back and forth.

Oh God!

Please…

_Please!_

Somebody just make it stop!

Please!

 _Please…_ Somebody… _Anybody!_

_Please, just take the pain away…_

Awkwardly pulling herself upright, Grace blindly made her way to the kitchen – fighting back gasps of pain as the pulsing agony continued to surge throughout every muscle, every vein and every synapse of her exhausted body – and reached across for the bottle of painkillers.

Grace filled her shaking hand and staring down at the capsules in silent contemplation.

_She had to make it stop…_

Enough was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the utmost respect for everyone battling physical and/or mental illness. I pray that this wasn't triggering, but that it does realistically portray the mental turmoil one suffers after any kind of significant traumatic event.
> 
> If it seemed a little jumbled and confused. Rest assured that was its intention… As we are dealing with Grace’s POV and her mental state is at best confused, unfortunately this is the result.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ CHAPTER NOTE BEFORE PROCEEDING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace POV
> 
> Please proceed with caution.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS for suicidal thoughts and suicide attempt.

 

Grace stared down resolutely at the painkillers, her hand growing clammy as she contemplated how many it would take to make the pain stop once and for all.

She lifted her hand to her mouth, but the caplets stuck to her palm and she laughed bitterly.

She couldn’t even fucking manage to do this right!

With a deep sigh she peeled the capsules off her sweaty hand and lined them up on the worktop, counting each one out aloud.

Thirteen.

_Unlucky for some…_

Hopefully not her. She’d had enough bad luck to last a lifetime.

With a sudden jolt of awareness, Grace grabbed an empty glass from the drainer and opened the cupboard.

_If she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly._

No more fucking mistakes!

_Enough was enough…_

Pulling out a bottle of cheap red wine which had been languishing at the back of the cupboard for longer than she cared to think about, Grace filled the pint glass and set it alongside the pills. She stared down at the neat line of painkillers and counted them out again, before placing two on her tongue and washing them down with a long slug of the wine.

She refilled her glass and carried that, along with the rest of the pills over to the coffee table, once again lining them up.

Grace found her long since discarded notepad and a pen, and slumped down on the sofa, staring around the empty room that had once - _if only for a short time_ \- been filled with love and laughter…

Or so she’d thought.

With that bitter thought pervading the numbness inside her brain, Grace began to write…

 

> **_You never know when will be the last time you’ll kiss somebody. The last time you’ll see their face. The last time you’ll smell their scent lingering in the air._ **
> 
> **_If you did you’d cherish it._ **
> 
> **_Never let them go…_ **
> 
> **_I should have never let you go. That was the beginning of the end for me. Everything turned to shit after that, just like it always does._ **
> 
> **_But, if I do this right you’ll finally be completely free. I’m sorry I’m such a waste of space. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the person you deserved. I’m sorry for hurting you. But you hurt me too._ **
> 
> **_You left._ **
> 
> **_I know why though._ **
> 
> **_And i’m sorry._ **
> 
> **_I’m worthless…_ **
> 
> **_But still. Just know this. Even though I never said it, I did…_ **

 

The persistent trill of the phone felt like another excruciatingly painful dagger tearing through Grace’s brain and interrupted her flow of words. She stopped, dropping the pen and gripping her head, praying for the pain to go away.

As the answerphone clicked in, Grace heard a voice.

A familiar voice. Cheerful and almost flirtatious in its playfulness as it invited the caller to leave their message and she’d think about calling them back.

_Her voice._

The one she’d recorded while straddling Tom one morning as he’d tickled her. It had been a dare and ultimately resulted in her losing - _not that she’d minded of course_ – the message had been just about legible, and the ‘punishment’ of Tom’s fingers tickling her somewhere much more intimate more than welcomed.

She’d always meant to delete it, but it had served as yet another reminder that nothing was what it seemed. And so she’d kept it.

But now, listening to it suddenly made her want to launch the damn phone across the room. How could she have been this stupid?

It had all been fake!

She angrily fisted the letter she’d been writing into a ball and threw that at the phone instead, just as the caller started to speak.

“Grace! This is your mother. If you’re there you’d damn well better answer this phone right this second young lady!”

_Oh would you come the fuck on?!_

“Grace Olivia Wallace-Stanley! Are you there?”

There was a silent pause and Grace’s heart pounded in her chest. She’d _never_ heard her mother sound this angry – and that was _really_ saying something… She was hardly known for her diplomacy when it came to chastisement.  

The woman on the end of the phone let out a deep sigh before continuing “I know you’re there Grace, because you’re _certainly_ not at university, _are you?!_ So you’d better listen to me. We’ve come home from an exhausting day to an email from your university. Your father is _disgusted!_ As am I! I _knew_ it was a mistake to let you go up there and study some namby-pamby subject! Filling your head with all this nonsense! You should be ashamed of yourself! How the hell can someone get expelled from an _Arts_ course for the love of God?!”

The tears fell as her mother’s disgusted rant continued, the answerphone finally cutting her off mid-sentence.

No doubt her mother would blame _that_ on her as well…

With a newly resolute perspective, and a shake of her head, Grace wiped at her bleary eyes and tried to refocus down at the coffee table, grabbing three more tablets and the glass of wine.

Her throat felt like sandpaper and she had to force the tablets down with the entire glass, trying not to gag.

Suddenly exhausted, Grace fell into a fevered state - _not quite awake and yet merely dancing along the periphery of sleep_ – as she finally succumbed to the demons in her head that she’d been trying to fight away for too long.

_They were right!_

_All of them._

She _was_ worthless.

The world and everybody in it would be much better off without her miserable existence to blight it…

And so Grace prayed for it to be over quickly.

 

*

 

The dazzlingly bright light made Grace flinch.

But as she continued to stare into it she found it almost comforting. It was so close.

So bright.

So pure.

She tried to reach her arm out but it felt like a lead weight by her side.

She tried her other arm, but that felt the same.

She blinked and still could see nothing but the light.

It was hypnotising.

She tried to listen but all she could hear was the sound of silence.

It was then that it hit her.

_No pain._

Nothing.

_Was this it?_

A wave of calm washed over her and Grace closed her eyes, a small smile forming on her lips.

When she opened them again the faces started to appear.

First Sarah, her best friend. The girl she’d once shared _all_ her secrets with. She was a woman now but Grace could still see the child inside her as she cried. _Why was she crying?_ Grace tried to reach out to her but again her hand refused to function.

Sarah disappeared and she was looking up into the eyes of Diana and James. They were reunited before her and she smiled up at them, remembering those wonderful days of summer in their garden, long years ago. But they only looked down in sadness as they held one another tightly, before ushering Emma in alongside them.

Emma gulped back tears as she laid a book down on Grace’s chest. Grace tried to move her body to get a better look, but just like her hands she couldn’t seem to move. All she could do was strain her eyes to read the title on the spine of the book.

_The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh._

A smile lit up Grace’s ashen face as memories of her favourite childhood book flooded back to her.

But just as quickly as it had lighted her features, the light disappeared faster than a will-o'-the-wisp as her distraught ex-lover now replaced his sister and parents, staring down at her with despair and something akin to confusion in his glistening blue eyes.

_Tom…_

He was here too?

_They were all here…_

But where _was_ here?

Grace opened her mouth but no words came out.

She reached out again but still her body would not comply.

She desperately wanted to touch him. To feel him close to her again. To hear his voice. To feel his touch on her skin.

_But he was no longer hers, was he!_

Tom leant closer and Grace swore she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as his watery eyes stared into her own, a question seemingly forming on his thin lips.

Again she tried to speak, her lungs burning with the effort and her chest thumping hard as the adrenaline seemed to kick in.

 _“Thomas!”_ Grace gasped just as his face faded away into the ether.

Pain immediately seared throughout her body and the pure white light - _that had only moments earlier engulfed her_ – disappeared, leaving behind only the sickeningly harsh artificial light of a place Grace now knew only too well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yesterday I discovered i'd reached the 200 kudos mark and it blew me away! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos and/or commented so far. When I started this fic I had no expectation of reaching anywhere near that number and while I don't write for kudos, it means so much that so many people are invested in my silly little ramblings.
> 
> As for Grace, rest assured there is light at the end of this particular tunnel now. She's finally in the right place thanks to an unexpected guardian angel... But more of that in the next chapter. <3


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace finally gets the help she needs and makes a big decision.
> 
> Trigger Warning for very brief mention of miscarriage.

 

Grace had no idea how long she’d lain in that solitary bed. The only thing she knew now with any real certainty was that she truly _was_ a failure.

At _everything_.

Even ending her own stinking pain.... _and everyone else’s torture._

Fucking hell!

She couldn’t even get that right!

For many days Grace refused any treatment other than that aimed at solving her immediate physical symptoms, not that the doctors had _needed_ her permission she had later discovered.

She refused to engage with the real world, retreating further into her own imagined bubble and not even attempting to assimilate to her surroundings.

She refused to even admit why she was in the unit.

Consequently Grace was scared, often over-medicated – _in her opinion_ \- and confused.

She was just a fuck up.

_She wasn’t crazy!_

Stupid, yes!

Worthless, yes!

But crazy…?

_No!_

Her bodyweight had been dangerously low on admission but over the course of several weeks it slowly began to increase as she was fed nutrient rich meals, initially through a tube – _much to her disgust_ \- then shakes, and finally actual food.

As the ravaging effects of the neglect to her body began to dissipate, so too did a lot of the physical pain from her surgeries and over a period of time she was weaned off the pain killers.

However the mental scars remained and she was still reluctant to break down her barriers and accept any help. The day she was moved from her solitary room and onto a communal ward was the day she finally had to face the fact of where she was. And the truth was, she was petrified.

She observed the other patients on the ward – the lady opposite continually rummaged through her bags in the middle of the night, telling her she was about to be discharged, _every single day._ Meanwhile, the woman at the end of the ward would wander up and down the entire length of the corridor at all times of day and night, setting off the fire alarm in her confusion.

After the third night of restless sleep, woken repeatedly by the packing woman, two fire alarms and haunted by nightmares, Grace made her decision.

She _had_ to get out of there.

And in order to do that she finally realised she was going to have to change her outlook on life.

*

Over the coming months Grace went through intensive therapies. At first she honestly just went through the motions.

Anything for a quiet life.

Anything if it put her one step closer to getting out of this place!

Anything if it meant that the rest of the time they'd just fucking leave her alone!

But as time passed and through therapy, Grace began to truly understand the events that had led to her being there, and consequently she finally realised just how broken she had become.

Yoga helped to strengthen her body and centre her mind, while therapy helped her to face her demons. Grace began to understand how her obsessive behaviours – _manifested after years of abandonment_ – led her down the path of fear and paranoia, only further confounded by the particularly cruel twists fate had thrown at her.

As she started the slow process of coming to terms with all this, she received her first visitors…

*

_It had been the postman who had saved Grace’s life that day._

_A curious twist of fate if ever there was one…_

_The very man sent to deliver her final crushing blow had ultimately become Grace’s guardian angel!_

_Her saviour._

_Because Grace finally realised how close she’d come to being lost forever._

_Jim - his name she later discovered - had found her in a pool of red vomit, the remaining tablets still lined up on the coffee table._

_He’d saved her._

_Jim had immediately called for an ambulance, putting her into the recovery position. When she’d been admitted, Grace’s medical history had finally been consolidated from both the John Radcliffe hospital down in Oxford and her last admittance at the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh and the decision had been made to section her under the Mental Health Act._

_Jim and his wife had kept in contact with the hospital, unable to visit initially due to their lack of ties with the young woman._

_But persistence had paid off, and during a session concerned with getting support systems in place for when Grace would finally be ready to leave, her therapist had revealed that both the postman and his wife still kept in regular contact._

_Grace initially had refused to see them, her embarrassment almost too great to bear._

_But as she began to learn through her counselling and therapy sessions, she could no longer just hide away her feelings and pretend she was invincible. The truth was, she needed people around her._

_She still couldn’t bring herself to contact the Hiddleston’s though._

_That was a step too far._

_But Jim and Sally, well they offered themselves as friends._

_And boy did she need some of those right now…_

*

They didn’t judge Grace in the way she’d thought they would. Grace learnt that the postman had returned to her flat after finishing his rounds, concerned about her safety.

When he’d arrived at her door he’d found it still ajar from his earlier visit. He’d knocked repeatedly, before pushing the door open and calling out.

He’d revealed that the discovery he’d made that day would haunt him forever, but when Grace had started to apologise for putting him through such an unpleasant experience, he’d merely shook his head and shushed her, telling her it was okay. It had been fate.

Grace and his wife Sally, clicked immediately.

She reminded Grace in many ways of a younger Diana in that she didn’t judge - didn’t chastise - instead merely offered ideas, encouraging words and hugs.

_Lots of hugs._

When Sally revealed that she had suffered from a miscarriage and then post-natal depression after the birth of their daughter Annie, Grace felt like there was finally someone who truly understood a little of what she was still trying to get her own head around.

Sally was able to offer Grace some much needed emotional support while the doctors continued to use their professional expertise to help Grace navigate her feelings and come to terms with the traumatic events she’d experienced.

The day finally came - _some six months later_ \- that Grace was released from hospital, and was welcomed into the home of Jim, Sally and Annie. They had insisted that she move in with them until she decided what she wanted to do with her life.

Grace had ended the lease of her own Edinburgh flat whilst she was still in hospital, knowing she would never be able to face returning there. So when the notice had expired her guardian angels had packed everything up for her and brought it to their semi-detached house on the outskirts of Edinburgh.

Grace’s parents – _listed as her next of kin_ – had been unreachable the entire time she’d been in hospital of course.

Perversely, Grace came to the conclusion that she didn’t even care.

_The truth was, she was glad!_

If she was going to make a new start, this was as good a time as any to rid herself of any negative influences.

On checking her bank account when she was released, it seemed they had already washed _their_ hands of _her_. While her existing savings were intact, no payments had been made into the account since that last answerphone message from her irate mother.

Rather than making Grace upset, this final act of desertion ultimately gave her the permission to go out into the big, wide world and be the person _she_ wanted to be, no longer constantly craving their approval.

Because if there was one thing she knew with certainty, it was that she needed to make a clean break.

While Grace knew she could never repay Jim and Sally enough for everything they had done for her, by the end of the year Grace also knew it was time to move on.

Edinburgh was no longer her home.

Nor was Oxford.

Both still held painful memories of her past - Tom no exception - and while she had made significant progress with her therapy, his desertion was still a touchy subject.

No.

_She needed a challenge._ Something to make that lingering ache finally disappear for good.

Moreover, she was desperate to be able to help someone else the way her guardian angels had helped her.

It was Annie who had suggested UNICEF.

She was six months older than Grace, and they had immediately clicked. Just like her parents, Annie had been a rock to Grace through her recovery, slowly helping her to integrate back into society.

Annie had become a fundraiser for UNICEF in her last year of high school, and when she had heard that they were seeking volunteers to help with the humanitarian crisis in Kosovo, she had signed up immediately.

Grace had instantly wanted to do the same, but Jim and Sally had initially voiced their trepidation, thinking it too soon in her recovery and possibly likely to trigger a relapse.

However, when Grace had passionately argued her rationale of wanting – _no, needing_ \- to give something back by helping others, they’d acquiesced, under the proviso that her therapist agreed.

That had taken more persuasion, but with an agreement that Annie would be alongside her and that Grace would continue counselling with her therapist over the phone each month, Doctor Forester had finally consented.

That left only one other thing to do.

Grace knew she had to close the chapter with the Hiddleston’s.

She knew it was already over with Tom.

That door had been closed now for a while.

But she still had to apologise for her behaviour at New Year.

And so, the evening before she flew out to Pristina, Grace wrote letters to Sarah and Diana.

In them she apologised for her terrible behaviour and her subsequent disappearance. She didn’t explain the full reasons behind what had happened, although she did reveal to Sarah that she’d suffered a miscarriage and it had left her in a strange and vulnerable state. She knew her friend would be upset to learn that Grace hadn’t confided in her, and she apologised for that too, explaining that she had been in too much of a mess and had simply shut _everyone_ out.

It wasn’t a lie of course.

But Grace chose not to mention Tom at all, other than when she finished both letters with a simple ‘love to everyone’. It served no purpose to cause any further upset for anyone, or to drag Tom back into what was essentially _her_ mess.

He had moved on, and she was about to.

She gave Jim and Sally’s address as the return address, but simply explained that she was going away for a while, that she was well now, and that they should not worry about her. She hoped that would be enough to quell any concerns.

In time she hoped to see Sarah again, but for the moment this was the best she could do. She prayed Sarah, Diana - _and everyone else_ \- would understand that she needed this time alone.

 

_~ End of Part Four ~_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never fear my dear readers, Tom will return in the next chapter...
> 
> Thanks again to everybody for your support. Love you all <3


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, we're flashing forward in time again, back to the evening of the UNICEF charity drinks reception. What happened after Grace ran away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luke Windsor POV

** Part Five ~ May 2016 **

 

Luke Windsor considered himself a tolerant man. It was a necessity in his profession.

But it was fair to say that over the past twenty-four hours he had been pushed to his absolute limit…

*

Luke had watched on in growing concern at the scene unfolding between Tom and Grace in the vestibule, at the same time keeping Harry in his eye line, just in case the sleaze decided to try anything else.

When Grace had suddenly bolted for the door - _and Tom hadn’t gone after her_ – Luke had sighed, sure that Tom must have said something inappropriate yet again in his alcohol addled state. He just prayed the term ‘bitch’ hadn’t come up again, otherwise he feared Tom might have fucked it up once and for all…

So when Harry suddenly roared with evil laughter as Tom turned back towards them, clearly emotional, Luke suspected that things were just about to get a whole lot worse and immediately turned back to the vile man, hoping to shut him up.

“Hey! Do you want me to call the police?” Luke threatened but Harry just laughed again and looked back at the approaching Tom, an evil smirk forming on his puffy pink face.

"Well, well, well! Looks like that frigid bitch is a cock tease _even_ to Mr Movie Star over here…” Harry goaded, his smirk growing wider as Tom stopped in his tracks and fixed the wretched little man with a glare.

Luke groaned audibly, sensing what fate was likely to befit this pathetic creature as he continued to smirk at a glowering Tom.

“Oh yeah…” the slimy man continued, his confidence growing faced only with Tom’s seething silence “I know _exactly_ who _you_ are… What’s the matter, _Mr Low-Key?_ Wouldn’t she _kneel_ for you either? Must be losing your tou-”

Harry didn’t get to finish his sentence. Tom, incandescent with rage – though not _only_ at this sorry excuse of a man – flew at him, his large hand easily gripping the shorter man’s sweaty throat and thrusting him back so that he was pinned against the wall, rattling the ornate picture frames hung nearby with the ferocity of his actions.

Harry groaned in pain as Luke in turn pounced. He tried to once again get between the two men as Harry’s eyes bulged in shock, before his expression abruptly turned to one of malevolent glee and he spluttered out a feeble attempt at a menacing chuckle.

“Tom!” hissed Luke desperately, tugging firmly at his employer’s arm and looking around in despair, thankful that – _at least for now_ – there was no-one else in sight to witness Tom’s wild-eyed display of aggression.

Tom’s fingers tightened around the greasy man’s throat as his anger seemed to rise exponentially.

He ignored Luke’s tugs and pleas to let Harry go, instead leaning in so close that he was looming over the smaller man, forcing Harry’s bulging eyes to flick up, still tauntingly.

“Tom! _Let him go!”_ Luke urged again, panic beginning to rise in his belly. He’d never seen his usually placid employer like this before – _save, of course, for when he’d been in a role_ – and it was disconcerting to say the least.

“Tom! We’ll call the police. This scum isn’t worth getting _yourself_ in trouble for… _Tom!”_

Tom blinked slowly, before glancing from his publicist back to the man pinned up against the wall, his face falling with confusion as his grip slackened slightly.

“He… he called her a… a… _bitch_ and a… a _cock tease_ …” Tom growled, a myriad of emotions flooding his expressive face “He was going to _hurt_ her Luke!”

“I know Tom…” Luke soothed calmly, slowly, in a placating tone “I know mate… But he _didn’t_. We stopped him Tom… _You_ stopped him _._ That’s why we need to call the police… It’s their job to deal with this. Not yours!”

As soon as the words were out, Luke regretted them immediately as he watched Tom’s usually happy face crumple desolately at the realisation that he was right.

Grace wasn’t Tom’s responsibility.

Tom’s now shaking hand relaxed from Harry’s throat and the fat man slumped to the floor, any further hint of provocation evaporating at the realisation that the men stood above him were now serious about calling the police.

“Tom… I’m going to make the phone call. I want you to go straight to the toilets and wait for me there. Wash your face, get your head together, okay?” Luke instructed, switching to PR mode as he dialled his legal team and quickly explained the situation.

*

An hour later, mentally exhausted but more than a little relieved, Luke was parking up outside Tom’s house and ushering him inside.

Tom immediately made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses and bringing them into the lounge, where Luke was pacing back and forth as he spoke to someone on the phone.

“No… No… Yes… and don’t worry. It’s sorted. Seems it’s not the first time Mr Evans has tried it on with an unwilling participant…”

The loud slam of Tom’s fist connecting with the door, followed immediately by a pained gasp of _“Fuck!”_ caused Luke to stop dead in his tracks and stare open mouthed at Tom.

“Sorry… I… erm, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in the morning!”

“What… The… Actual… Fuck! _Tom?”_ Luke moved quickly over to his friend side and tried to look at his hand but Tom pulled away, grimacing and mumbling something about needing to let his rage out.

“You should have let me hit _him_ …” Tom suddenly growled, rounding on Luke “From what the police said it’s a miracle Grace wasn’t… _wasn’t…_ ”

Tom let out a strangulated sob and collapsed onto the sofa, swiping his unbruised hand through his unruly hair.

His concern deepening, Luke poured two generous measures of the whiskey and offered one to Tom.

“I know…” Luke sighed “But it’s not our job mate…”

Tom took the glass of amber liquid wordlessly from him and knocked it back, swallowing the entire contents in one go followed by a low hiss.

Luke frowned.

Maybe the whiskey wasn’t such a great idea after all.

But the truth was, both their nerves were jangling right now. Tom was still in shock over seeing this woman who had clearly messed with his head _somehow_ over the years, whilst _he_ was growing ever more concerned about how quickly his usually placid, good-natured employer was descending into an angst-ridden rage.

Whatever had and/or was still going on between these two people, Luke needed to know if he was going to be able to continue working with Tom.

It was that simple.

As it stood right now, there were far too many unknown variables suddenly creeping out of the woodwork for him to do his job properly.

He needed to know _exactly_ what he was dealing with!

Luke broke from his contemplation and downed his own drink, deciding it would probably be for the best if he stayed in Tom’s spare room tonight, just in case his friend’s already erratic behaviour deteriorated even more.

Looking up, Luke rolled his eyes as he realised Tom had filled his glass again and was knocking the contents back as if he was parched, before stretching his long legs up along the sofa, lying back and closing his eyes with a low sigh of resignation.

 _Their conversation would have to wait until the morning, it seemed_ …

"Y... you know there was... there was a b... baby once... At least I _think_ there was…" Tom sniffled sleepily, his eyes raw with unshed tears.

Luke's eyebrows shot up _"What?"_

There was no reply from Tom, other than a long drunken snore.

  

_Fucking hell!_

Luke stood back up and started pacing back and forth again.

This was a fucking potential PR disaster! What in God’s green earth had he got himself into?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my lovelies! 
> 
> I'm seriously, SERIOUSLY overwhelmed by the response to Tom and Grace's tale! I love you all for taking the time to read and comment and become as invested in this story as I am. I won't be able to update now for a couple of days as I REALLY have to get some RL work done but rest assured there are exciting things on the horizon... <3


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke confronts Tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom POV

 

When Tom woke the following morning, it was barely dawn. His muscles were tight and achy, his head not much better. Befuddled by just how uncomfortable he was, Tom groaned and rolled over, almost falling off the sofa in his confusion.

Automatically reaching a hand out to stop himself, he winced as he discovered yet another pain.

_What the fuck?_

He liked to consider himself pretty fit, all things considered, but the way he was feeling this morning it felt like he’d aged fifty years overnight!

What’s more, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d passed out before he’d even made it to bed!

It was as he raised his painful hand to his face that it all came crashing back to him.

_Grace._

It was _always_ Grace.

Yeah. Suddenly the last time he’d passed out without making it to bed wasn’t quite so hard to remember…

Casting that painful memory aside Tom slowly tensed and relaxed his bruised knuckles, with another wince of pain.

_Shit!_

Staggering upright, he swayed before sluggishly making his way to the bathroom. He needed to pee.

Having emptied his bladder – _Jesus! How much did he drink last night?_ – Tom turned on the taps and washed his hands, wincing for a third time as the water stung his knuckles. He inspected the wounds. Thankfully nothing too obvious. His prominent knuckles just looked redder than usual.

Luke would be relieved!

_Luke!_

Oh shit.

His ever patient publicist definitely deserved a raise after yesterday!   

He’d have to see to that.

Tom ran his unbruised hand through his messy hair and inspected his face in the mirror. He looked drawn. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were pronounced bags underneath.

_Hmm._

It was almost as if he’d been crying.

He hadn’t cried in a while…

Well. Not unless you count watching _Inside Out_!

But this looked like more than that.

_Had he cried last night?_

Why couldn’t he remember?

All he could remember was the party…

And Luke.

_And Grace._

And that fucking bastard who’d tried to hurt her…

_Oh!_

_Grace_.

And that bastard again.

And Luke.

And the police.

_And Grace._

Grace…

Tom was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps outside the bathroom.

For the briefest moment his heart soared.

_Grace!_

Was she here?

Was that why he suddenly couldn’t get her out of his head?

“You in there mate? I need to pee!”

And just as fast Tom’s optimistic heart plummeted back to the ground as he heard the familiar voice of Luke.

“Mmm… yeah, sorry. Give me a minute” Tom sniffled back an unexpected tear and it hit him square in the gut. He knew _exactly_ why he’d been crying in the night.

_Grace._

Always fucking Grace…

He couldn’t keep doing this.

With a sigh Tom wiped at his eyes and rubbed his stubbled chin before opening the door.

He chose to ignore Luke’s wary countenance and headed into the kitchen.

Tom needed caffeine.

 _Lots_ of caffeine.

And a full English!

*

An hour later, Tom and Luke were sat at the kitchen table finishing off the last morsels of one of Tom’s legendary fry ups.

Having showered, shaved and changed into his casual uniform of dark jeans and T shirt, Tom was feeling a little more alive.

Over breakfast Luke had reminded him he was to film his appearance on Graham Norton later that day as part of his work to promote _I Saw The Light_.

It had been a gentle reminder - _yet laced with a definite undercurrent of concern_ \- as Luke had run through the schedule for the next few days. Tomorrow would be a full day of press junkets and both Tom and Luke knew he would need to be firing on all cylinders.

It was with this realisation in mind that Luke decided the time had come to talk.

“Tom…” Luke downed the remains of his orange juice and looked at his friend and employer with a hint of trepidation.

Tom immediately knew what was coming and held his hand up, ready to cut Luke off.

“I don’t want to talk about it…” he sighed.

“I’m afraid we’re going to _have_ to Tom. Look man, you know I would never get involved in your private life normally…” Luke paused, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes before putting them back in place “but whatever _that_ was last night was not just some meaningless hook up suddenly returning from the past…”

“Luke…” Tom warned “I thought I’d explained this to you yesterday? You _know_ who Grace was… is… _was_ to me…” Tom rubbed his own eyes in frustration.

He could feel his heckles rising, despite himself.

Something about that woman always did this to him.

Did what exactly?

Pissed him off?

Upset him?

_Aroused him…?_

Fuck she’d looked good last night though…

Despite himself Tom’s cock twitched at the memory. _Hell, who was he trying to kid?_

Grace _always_ looked good.

Well, except that one time…

Casting that painful memory aside he looked at his friend’s face.

Luke was watching as a million and one emotions flashed through Tom’s eyes and he knew it was now or never.

“Listen. Tom. You know I always have your best interest at heart right?”

“Mmm hmm…” Tom nodded warily.

“Well. You said some things last night that seriously worried me. But more than that Tom, you _did_ some things that made me question just how much you’re not telling me. As your friend, and your publicist, I can’t help you if you’re not completely straight with me…”

Tom sighed.

He’d hoped this conversation would never come. He was ashamed of himself. For last night. For so much more that had happened between himself and Grace.

“I’m not sure you’ll want to be either of those things if I tell you…” Tom sighed again, running his battered hand through his hair before he remembered the bruising.

“Ow… fuck!”

Luke frowned but Tom didn’t see. He had placed his hands on the table and was staring down at his splayed fingers, deep in contemplation.

“Try me”

“It’s a very long story… where do you want me to start?”

“I’d say the beginning is as good a place as any, wouldn’t you?” Luke prompted.

Despite Tom’s better judgement a smile began to twitch at the corner of his lips as he began to recount the details of his early relationship with Grace. As he spoke, he couldn’t help but to fondly remember the many things he’d loved – he _still_ loved - about her, along with some things that had frustrated the hell out of him.

Luke picked up on the way Tom’s eyes lit up whenever he talked of her humour, her warmth, and her compassion and he couldn’t resist interrupting, asking the question on the tip of his tongue.

"Hey! Has it ever occurred to you that there might be a reason you keep meeting her?"

"Oh yeah! God's got a fucking vendetta mate!” Tom stood abruptly and began pacing back and forth, pausing only to run his hand through his hair again and back down his neck.

Suddenly he stopped and shook his head, attempting a joke, hoping to stop this inquisition from Luke “Hey! Maybe he's pissed off about something Loki did.... _I don't bloody know!"_

Luke rolled his eyes, something Tom did not miss. It seemed Luke was not going to let this go that easily.

Luke’s usually calm voice suddenly erupted and he slammed his hands down on the table in frustration.

"No Tom. Enough with the distractions and the jokes. This is _me_ you’re talking to now… I have _NEVER_ seen you react like this over _ANYONE_ , or _anything_ for that matter...” he stared at Tom pointedly “You know what they say about love, don’t you?”

“Hmm? What’s that Plato?” Tom snarked before immediately looking apologetically down at Luke’s less than impressed frown.

“Sorry… go on…” he mumbled.

Luke looked knowingly at his friend.

“They say there's a very fine line between love and hate…”

“Oh believe me. That line is pretty damn thick right now...” Tom coughed, stifling a hurt laugh and not wanting to address how accurate his words were. “Did you not see the way she ran off last night?”

"Oh come on Tom! If you didn't care about her you would never have been so upset! It's been, what? _Seven_ years didn’t you say since you last saw her!? Have you ever bothered to actually listen to her side of things? What even happened seven years ago Tom?"

"What the fuck?" Tom's face frowned "I swear to God Luke. If you are in cahoots with that... _that... woman_ , you and I are done! You have no idea what she put me through..."

"So... _tell_ me! I only know what you've told me so far – and that’s going back to you as a teenager! – _well, that and what I've seen or overheard_. And frankly _that_ isn’t much more than a bunch of insults from the pair of you. _Tom._ You _know_ I will always have your back. It's my job, both as your employee _and_ your friend. But if there is something - _anything_ \- you need to be telling me about this woman, now would be the time. Because trust me on this... the more famous you become the more people want to take you down. If there is a skeleton in your closet that could harm you, even if you don't think you’re the one at fault, you _really_ need to tell me!"

Tom held his head in his hands and sighed, feeling the tears well up as he remembered the last time he’d seen Grace before yesterday. The mere thought of that encounter made him nauseous[…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bW7Op86ox9g) 

 

~ End of Part Five ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fasten your seatbelts folks because we're heading back to Grace and Tom's last fateful meeting in Part Six... <3


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom remembers the last time he saw Grace...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom POV

** Part 6 ~ ** ** Chennai, India 2009 **

 

The years following Grace’s sudden disappearance that frosty Millennium Eve had been some of the worst, and yet conversely _,_ some of the best of Tom Hiddleston’s adult life.

He did not deal at all well with her disappearance at first. For months afterwards he had called Grace’s mobile phone and landline, only to get the sound of the answerphone each time. At first he’d left pleading messages but as days turned into weeks, and each answerphone’s memory storage became full, he was left in a strange stasis of merely listening to her sweet voice but never being able to interact with her.

In desperation, at half-term Tom had travelled up to Edinburgh - telling no-one, _not even Grace’s answerphone_ – in the hope he would find her in her flat, at worst simply ignoring him. While that would have hurt like a bitch, he would at least have some closure and finally be able to sleep at night, knowing she was safe. At best, he’d hoped for some sort of reunion.

Yes, he knew it was stupid. But he’d loved her _that_ much…

But when he’d arrived, he’d found her front door locked. He’d resorted to knocking door to door in utter desperation but the building hosted several holiday lets, and of the remaining residents, no-one had seen or heard from Grace in months.

The dejected walk back to Waverley Station had been further confounded by the sight of the Scott monument – _the site of Tom and Grace’s last kiss and promises to one another_ – and his broken heart ached to go back to that sunny August afternoon once again.

_Just to feel her soft lips on his own one more time...._

But alas, that was not to be. Instead her mobile phone number had been disconnected, followed some months later by her landline.

That had been another gut-wrenching kick in the balls to Tom. No longer even able to hear Grace’s voice, he’d tried desperately to distract himself with university and his - _thankfully_ \- still burgeoning acting career, refusing to allow himself to be hurt anymore. But that didn’t mean his mind hadn’t wandered late at night, when he’d laid in his ridiculously small bed in the halls of residence - _his feet dangling over the edge_ – and reluctantly succumbed to sleep.

His dreams had been a tormented mixture of erotic fantasies and angry exchanges, the thoughts he refused to entertain during waking hours warring with one another deep inside his psyche.

Of course, it had not been any easier for the other Hiddleston’s.

In the case of Tom’s mother and sisters, if they’d suspected anything more than his familial concern for the young girl’s safety after the bizarre events that fateful evening, they’d said nothing. The truth was, everyone had been totally shell-shocked. Firstly by Grace’s totally out of character behaviour, but also her sudden departure. The entire family had seemed to go through something akin to mourning in the months that had followed, their hearts battered and bruised with their own perceived sense of failure.

Over time, Tom’s initially panicked response to finding that Grace had disappeared turned to one of fear for her safety and welfare. But then, a simmering rage at her lack of consideration for _anyone_ else’s feelings started to consume him and transformed his love for her into hatred.

 _At least, that’s what he told himself in the years that followed_.

Tom left Cambridge behind with his double First in Classics and continued on to RADA, where once again he excelled. He started to pick up more and more acting jobs, although the ‘big break’ seemed to elude him.

But he tried to be pragmatic.

Everything happened for a reason after all.

It simply mustn’t be his time yet…

_Just like it apparently hadn’t been his and Grace’s…_

Tom had his fair share of dalliances with the fairer sex in the years that followed. He had tried his utmost best not to compare them to _her_ , knowing it was neither fair to them or to himself. But there had never been a real emotional connection like the one he'd – _thought_ he’d - shared with Grace.

That had all changed when he met someone while working on _Wallander._ She had been like a breath of fresh air and for a while they had been blissfully happy.

But for one reason or another that too fizzled out. Maybe it was the haunting spectre of unresolved questions he still harboured about Grace that did it. Maybe it was his sudden thrust into the limelight. Or maybe it was his reluctance to commit. But whatever it was, by the time he headed out to India for Sarah’s wedding, he was travelling alone.

*

It was early morning when Tom landed in Chennai, having taken the red-eye from LAX.

_Oh yes!_

LA Baby! Tom had finally landed the motherload of a role!

A role that he cautiously suspected might just be _‘The One’._ It had meant him moving out to [Venice](http://www.standard.co.uk/lifestyle/esmagazine/faking-bad-meet-hollywoods-nicest-villain-tom-hiddleston-8886197.html) Beach – not too much of a hardship, especially when it meant he got to trade running around Regent’s Park in the dreary winter rain for running along a sunny beach with a view of the shimmering Pacific!

He’d been given special dispensation to leave filming for a few days by the director himself – _luckily a friend and former colleague_ – when the contracts had originally been signed. It did, however, mean that the Tom who arrived in India looked markedly different from the Tom his family were no doubt expecting to see…

Wearily he stepped out of the taxi, the intense humidity already hitting him like a wall of heat and causing his thin blue T-shirt to stick uncomfortably to his newly developed torso, another side effect of his movie role.

Tom surveyed the brightly decorated entrance, replete with its vibrant floral [pookalam](http://www.rinasvenue.com/gallery.php) and inhaled, the scent of exotic flowers filling his lungs and making him smile.

_Ah. It was good to be back in India!_

His sister Sarah had moved there a few years ago, and it was there that she’d met her husband to be, Yakov. The couple had hired the tranquil South Indian style house Tom was currently stood in front of - _sweating his balls off,_ he reminded himself as he climbed the steps and prayed for air-conditioning – to host the entire wedding. It was situated away from the hustle and bustle of the city centre, surrounded by landscaped gardens and complete with its own set of bungalows where the family guests would be staying.

Stifling a yawn, Tom was greeted by the owner with a refreshing glass of [Nimbu-Pani](http://www.food.com/recipe/nimbu-pani-302983)  and swiftly checked in, before being directed towards an enclosed courtyard where his bungalow was situated. Looking down at his watch, he wondered hopefully if he could possibly squeeze in a few hours sleep before the other guests woke. He’d not seen his family in months, but in the stifling heat it suddenly felt like years since he’d last slept!

And yet, as he turned the corner into the shady courtyard, all thoughts of sleep evaporated as he was confronted by a ghost from his past.

Tom would never forget the way his heart had surged - _and his stomach simultaneously dropped_ \- on seeing Grace for the first time in nearly ten years, knelt alongside his sister as the two women went through a series of yoga poses.

At first he thought his tired eyes were playing tricks on him. It couldn’t be Grace! Sarah would surely have mentioned that she was back in contact with her friend.

_Wouldn’t she?_

But then Tom thought back to the day he’d gone to [Regent Street](http://enchantedbyhiddles.tumblr.com/post/144100066846/there-is-an-actor-called-jj-feild-its-alarming) for a fitting of his morning suit with both his sisters. Sarah had said she had a few surprises in store for everyone at the wedding.

_This was definitely not the sort of surprise Tom had been anticipating…_

And yet, as he surreptitiously watched Grace from the corner of the courtyard, simultaneously wanting her to notice him and praying she didn’t, Tom was shocked to feel _excitement_ beginning to bubble up inside him.

He’d long thought that if the day ever came that he saw her again, he would scream his lungs out at her. Tell her how much pain and anguish she’d caused, how irresponsible she’d been, and make her understand just how much she’d hurt _him_.

And yet here he stood, lurking in the shadows like some creeper, staring at the woman he’d thought – _even back then at the tender age of eighteen_ – that he would spend the rest of his life with.

_With a fucking boner!_

Christ! He was eighteen again!

Grace looked exactly as he remembered her, yet somehow completely different.

_Yeah, he knew it made no sense!_

But physically, save for her darker skin and lighter hair, and maybe a couple of extra pounds - _in all the right places,_ he gasped, as she bent forward into a downward facing frog  - she was exactly the same woman he’d fallen in love with all those years ago in Edinburgh - not that _she’d_ loved _him_ of course!

_It would serve him well to remember that over the next few days!_

It was as Tom was mulling this painful fact over that their eyes connected. Grace had transitioned into a dolphin pose and as she breathed through the stretch, her eyes met Tom’s from between her legs.

Her eyes were…

_Oh God! Her eyes were hauntingly beautiful!_

Tom had to look away.

Whatever had happened to her over the past ten years had changed her. Her eyes were hardened, yet somehow also wary.

As ever Grace was a mass of contradictions.

His throat constricted and he wiped anxiously at the sweat on his brow, realising whether he liked it or not the time had come to say hello.

He just prayed he could hold it together long enough not to make a fool of himself.

But before he’d even had chance to gather himself properly Grace had opened her mouth and his heart leapt.

 _“Thomas…?”_ he heard Grace's breathy gasp.

“Hello Grace…”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Again I will reiterate this is a work of fiction. No offense is intended and this fictional break in a certain RL relationship is purely that, fictional, to suit my narrative okay? Some other dates have also been moved ever so slightly for continuity...


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace's account of that same reunion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace POV

 

As Grace wiped the sweat from her brow where she stood with Sarah in the quiet courtyard - _the oppressive heat not quite settling on their bodies just yet as the sun peeked up over the square of bungalows_ \- the two women began to move through their yoga stances. Both were oblivious to the pair of eyes keenly watching _one_ of them from the shadows.

_It had been a bad day so far and the day had barely even begun…_

It was the eve of Sarah’s wedding and Grace had been woken at the ass crack of dawn by her friend, reeling off a list of things a mile long still needing to be completed before the Mehndi ceremony later that morning.

Grace hadn’t slept at all well the night before, tossing and turning as her stomach lurched every time she thought about the fact that Tom would be arriving later that day. When Sarah had told her, Grace had asked no questions, simply nodding indifferently and going back to practicing the dance routine that she already knew she was going to cock up.

Consequently, in her sleep deprived state, when Sarah had dived on her bed at 5:15am Grace had almost given the bride-to-be a black eye.

After frantically checking for any damage and apologising profusely, it was decided that they should probably work on rebalancing Grace’s chakras if she was to be of any use to Sarah that day.

And so, at a little after 5:30 in the morning the pair of women had taken to the deserted courtyard and began to work their way through a series of yoga poses.

It was as she was transitioning from downward facing dog to dolphin that Grace felt it.

She sensed a presence, followed by a barely audible gasp and glanced around, trying to focus on the source of the noise. Squinting, her inverted eyes met two impossibly blue - _impossibly familiar_ \- ones and her own gasp escaped her parted lips.

_“Thomas?”_

“Hello Grace…”

 _See?_ Bad day!

Bad week.

_Bad fucking year!_

Grace gulped back another gasp as her eyes reluctantly trailed down from Tom’s inscrutable gaze, taking in his long, still lean – _and yet definitely broader_ – stature. She forced herself not to linger on the bulge in his jeans, telling herself it was just the lay of the stiff black denim fabric. Instead she stared resolutely at his white trainer clad feet, oblivious to the blood rushing to her head as she remained in her inverted yogic stance.

“Erm… Grace? I think you can relax for a minute!”

Sarah’s amused voice broke Grace’s concentration and she shifted, wobbling as she slowly righted herself and tried to gather her wits as she watched the two siblings embrace.

_Shit!_

This was not how she’d envisaged meeting Tom again for the first time in nearly ten years!

She’d wanted to be armoured in more clothing than just her revealing work out gear. She would also rather not have been sweating her tits off and with her hair no doubt wild.

She had really wanted to show him that she'd changed.

Because the truth was, she _had_ changed. So much so that sometimes she barely recognised herself when she looked in the mirror.

But this wasn’t so much a physical transformation. To the unseeing eye Grace _was_ the same person, albeit ten years older, a fraction wider in the hips, _definitely_ bigger in the ass area, but - _hopefully -_ wiser.

You see, Grace had changed from the nervous, lonely girl who had almost ended her life all those years ago. She was stronger now.

Confident.

_At least that’s what her therapist kept telling her._

They still spoke once a month on the phone. Carol remained her security blanket.

But Grace had finally learned to accept the things that had been out of her control. _So many things_. And she was fine with doing so.

_Honestly…_

But she _had_ hoped to control her first meeting with Tom. She wanted him to know she was okay without him. That she wasn’t some pathetic lovesick fool anymore. And above all else ensure that there was no repeat performance of ten years ago.

And so, desperately conscious of Sarah’s proximity, Grace reverted to type.

“Fancy seeing you here Thomas!" she tried to keep her voice steady as she craned her neck up at the man she’d once thought was her soulmate “I had to look twice you know? Your baby blond curls have all disappeared! Whatever has happened to you?"

"It's for a role..." Tom suddenly huffed, self-consciously smoothing down his dyed black hair.

"And the eyebrows? _Oh Thomas!_ What on earth have they done to you?!" Grace purred teasingly, getting some perverse satisfaction from seeing Tom squirm and silently seethe as she used _that_ name on him again.

His skin was alabaster pale and this, combined with the raven locks just brushing his shoulders, made his already brilliant blue eyes gleam even brighter.

He'd also bulked up as far as Grace could make out.

 _Oh he wasn’t suddenly Atlas_ , but he was _definitely_ wider in the shoulders and chest than she’d remembered – and she remembered him well! Grace didn’t even dare look at his thighs though… The outline of his abs through the sweat soaked t-shirt was already distracting enough.

The truth was, Tom looked sinfully hot and she found herself fighting the sudden urge to just run back to her bungalow and balance her chakras with the use of her vibrator rather than through bloody yoga!

Tom’s velvety deep voice however - _tinged with more than a hint of annoyance_ \- broke her from her daydream.

“Well…I _would_ say it was nice seeing _you_ again after all these years Grace…” Tom stuck out his chin defiantly and narrowed his eyes, fixing her with a suddenly arrogant glare “but my resolution for the year has been not to lie and I wouldn’t like to break it so near to the end!”

Grace’s mouth hung open in shock and more than a little hurt but she swiftly clamped it shut, not wanting to give Tom the satisfaction.

She needn’t have worried, Tom had already grabbed the handle of his suitcase and was wheeling it away as he shouted back over his shoulder to Sarah.

“I’m going to unpack sis. We’ll catch up later yeah? It’s _really_ good to see _you!_ ”

Grace fought back tears – _unsure whether they were of anger, hurt, or both_ – at the pointed disregard from Tom, yet knowing deep down she had deserved it.

The truth was, she deserved that _and so much more_ from Tom.

Forcing out a nonchalant yawn, Grace gathered up her mat and rolled her shoulders, attempting to feign boredom.

“Well I guess we’re finished for now? My chakras are _definitely_ balanced now!” Grace let out a hollow laugh “Let me grab a quick shower and then I’m your obedient slave for the rest of the day… And I promise not to punch you again! Your _brother_ on the other hand…”

“You know, you’re always _so_ hard on him Grace!” Sarah stopped Grace before she could escape, not willing to let what had just transpired between her brother and her best friend simply go without voicing her concern.

“Wow! That coming from the woman who used to incessantly point out Tom’s ‘[inherent ugliness and pointlessness in the universe](https://youtu.be/hQ3zpY0LPEc?t=52s)’!” Grace taunted good-naturedly, trying to distract Sarah from eyeing her any more suspiciously.

The truth was, Grace had kept the secret of her and Tom’s fleeting liaison _this_ long, and it served no purpose to _any_ of them for it to now be dragged out into the open, especially given Tom’s obvious hatred for her now.

Instead she bit back a sigh, forcing the tiny, painful flicker of hope that had ignited at seeing him – _looking so different and yet exactly as she’d remembered him_ \- back down to rest with all the other hopes and dreams she’d long since abandoned. 

“Grace! That was such a long time ago…” Sarah sighed, before breaking into an affectionate smile “You know, Tom and I actually get on really well now that we don’t have to live under the same roof with one another. He’s really rather sweet…”

Grace forced herself not to think about just _how_ sweet she knew Tom could be, taking a deep breath and putting on a fake smile for her oldest friend.

“I’ll take your word for it” she lied “but if it makes you feel any better, I promise I’ll be nice to him for the rest of the wedding.”

“That’s all I can ask of you Grace…” Sarah grinned then, pulling Grace into a tight hug before chuckling against her ear “Y’know I used to hope that you and he would get married one day!”

Grace froze, her heart beginning to thump in her chest as her friend pulled away and winked at her.

“Oh Grace, don’t look so disgusted!” Sarah full on belly laughed then, mistaking Grace's sorrow for revulsion “It was only because I wanted you to be an ‘official’ Hiddleston! Who better to be my sister-in-law than my best friend in the world?!”

Grace, clearly shell-shocked by this revelation, stood mouth agape unable to formulate a single thing to say back to that.

“Don’t worry hun!” Sarah guffawed, not realising just how much the disclosure of her childish dreams would mortify her friend “I realise now that that’s about as likely as me climbing Mount Everest!”

And with that, Sarah winked one more time and the two women parted for their respective rooms.

Safely ensconced back inside her bungalow, Grace sagged against the closed door. Her body and mind were a tumultuous mess of shock, anger, frustration - _and though Grace hated to admit it_ – arousal.

Why had she been so mean to Tom? How could he _still_ have this effect on her? Why could she not just get on with her bloody life? And why the hell had Sarah’s childish fantasy of her friend being ‘Mrs Hiddleston’ made her heart flutter, _not in disgust_ , but in _pain_ for everything they’d lost?

Melancholia set in as Grace slowly undressed and she found herself questioning her place in the grand scheme of things once more…

*

_For several years after Tom there had been nobody._

_Grace had spent a long time single, scared to get close to another man. Her work and travel with UNICEF left little time to settle down with anyone anyway._

_It suited her to perfection if she was totally honest. It also meant she had a ready-made answer for anyone who questioned her lack of commitments._

_Because, if there was one thing she’d learnt in the nine years she’d been away from the UK, it was that all people seemed to truly care about was when a single woman of child bearing age was going to settle down with a respectable – read **boring** – man and procreate!_

_It drove her insane, and as a result she rarely travelled back to the UK. But a little over a year ago she’d had to, finding herself briefly back in Oxford for the less than auspicious occasion of her parent’s funeral._

_The bastards had only gone and managed to get themselves killed in a freak car accident in Peru on their latest expedition, robbing Grace of the chance to one day ask them why they’d even bothered bringing a child into the world that they knew they were incapable of loving._

_Or to tell them how much she fucking hated them!_

_And yet they’d brought her into this world… and so she’d desperately tried to reconcile her hatred with the knowledge that they had been the reason she was even alive._

_Still, Grace found herself unable to even shed a tear for the strangers, much to her stunned mortification._

_Did that make her a monster?_

_Or worse, did it simply mean that she was more like them than she cared to admit? Was she as cold and heartless as they had been?_

_She’d coldly left everyone she’d loved behind that Millennium Eve, hadn’t she? Closed the door on her past with Tom without even giving him the chance to speak. To explain…_

_She’d brushed that thought aside, thankful to have another shameful realisation to distract her._

_As she'd glanced around the packed crematorium - full of grieving friends, colleagues and God only knows who else - Grace had realised that she recognised none of their faces._

_That is, except for one._

_It was a face she hadn’t seen for nearly nine years, and in spite of the passing of time, it still smiled at her with the same benevolent affection._

_James!_

_James Hiddleston had learnt of Grace’s parent’s deaths through the grapevine via some of his colleagues at Oxford University and instinctively knew the young woman would need support. He’d heard of Grace’s less than auspicious departure all those years ago but just like his ex-wife, James had always pledged to be there if he was needed. With Diana in India visiting Sarah, Emma travelling God only knows where, and Tom filming in Sweden it was an easy decision to cancel his meetings and offer his own moral support._

_Grace’s stomach had simultaneously twisted into a knot and flipped with relief at seeing the elderly gentleman, as he'd squeezed in alongside her in the pew and held her hand._

*

And it had been that small twist of fate which had reunited Grace with her once best friend Sarah in India of all places.

After the cremation, James and Grace had met for dinner, catching up on one another’s lives. Learning of Grace’s humanitarian work and her interest in teaching English in deprived areas whilst completing her previously abandoned English degree, James had arranged an introduction with the wife of a colleague who was conducting a research project just outside [Chennai](http://www.younglives.org.uk/) and before she knew it, Grace had found herself being welcomed at the airport by Sarah of all people.

Grace had thought it would be awkward, but Sarah had immediately opened her arms - _and her home_ \- to Grace whilst she became acquainted with the local customs and had found herself somewhere suitable to live, and then she’d been on her way.

They still met up regularly, although they both agreed early on not to talk about _that_ night. Surprisingly Sarah hadn’t been angry or upset with Grace. She’d actually thanked Grace for the letter and told her that _whatever_ the full details of that traumatic event were, it was _Grace’s_ business, and that - unless she _wanted_ to talk about it – Sarah wouldn’t push, just so long as Grace was okay.

Grace had promised her she was, and the truth was, she _was_ okay now.

_Mostly…_

Shaking her head free of such thoughts, Grace turned on the shower and stepped under its cooling spray, washing away the tears that she hadn’t even realised were falling.

She knew the next few days would be a monumental test for her. Of that there was no doubt whatsoever. Somewhere in her darkest moments over the last ten years, Grace had finally found some peace in her mind with Tom and their brief but passionate love affair.

It had been her halcyon days of youthfulness, innocent in its own peculiar way. The hopes and dreams they’d sowed could never have borne fruit. Their paths were too divided.

 _She knew that now_.

What had happened to her _after_ Tom had left had been neither of their fault.

That was what Carol kept reminding her anyway.

For the most part it was far easier just to accept that.

Much easier than facing the reality that maybe _she_ should have answered Tom’s messages and _Tom_ should have answered his phone…

But that was all done now. Too much time had passed.

Tom had moved on.

 _She_ had moved on.

_She was fine…_

So why was it that, from the second she’d recognised the tall man stepping out of the shadows, Grace had begun to realise just how much of a monumental challenge she was about to face? 

She’d never _truthfully_ considered herself to be strong. Neither in body nor mind. But she knew that over the next few days she would simply  _have_ to be.

She would have to be vigilant.

She would _have_ to remain detached.

_Pleasant._

But nonetheless detached.

It was the only way she was going to survive this wedding...

It was the only way she was going to survive, full stop.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I promise there will be SO much more interaction in the next chapter. Seriously. BIG things...


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Game Is On...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV: Grace and Tom

 

The women had just left the mehndi ceremony, heading back to their respective bungalows to get ready for the ['Sangeet'](http://bhavnashenna.com/what-is-a-sangeet-in-an-indian-wedding.html) when the warmth of someone’s breath stirred the sensitive skin of Grace's exposed neck, alerting her to _his_ presence.

_Tom._

That man could be as stealthy as a jaguar when he wanted to be!

Spinning around in protest, Grace had been immediately silenced – save for a muffled gasp – as she found herself nose to chest with him.

Gulping back a second nervous gasp, her eyes darted around, but they were already alone. Immediately Grace tried to take a step backwards, anxious to distance herself from Tom’s overwhelming proximity, only to find herself backed up against the wall to her bungalow. Tom in turn stepped forward with her, effectively cancelling out her attempt to find space.

In her flip flops and this close, Tom seemed even taller, broader and more intimidating than she’d ever remembered him being before.

Christ he looked good!

Different.

But _good!_

 _Stop it!_ Grace warned herself mentally, self-consciously licking away the sweat she could feel beginning to accumulate across her upper lip. Meanwhile she desperately tried to get her traitorous mind and aroused body safely back in sync with her earlier plan.

“Aha, my dearest Grace… We meet again… _finally alone!”_ Tom's purr was seductively low, his sonorous voice vibrating through his chest and along the tip of her nose - which up until that point might just have been surreptitiously _sniffing_ him.

Fuck! Why did he always have to smell so damn good?! It made it so bloody hard to concentrate on her plan.

_What was her plan again…?_

Sensing her uneasiness, Tom chuckled ominously and leant his head closer to Grace’s, which was resolutely looking anywhere else but up towards him.

_No, no, no, no, no!_

Not going to happen…

“Cat got your tongue? You’re not _usually_ short of something to say Grace! What’s the matter? Missing your audience, are you?” Tom goaded, more than a hint of sarcasm in his otherwise velvety voice as he leant even closer, so close that Grace could feel the heat of his torso radiating towards her own sweating skin.

Taking a stuttering breath – and getting another lungful of ‘Tom’ – Grace’s heckles began to rise and she finally looked up into Tom’s amused eyes, hissing “I beg your pardon? Me…? _Me?!”_

Was he fucking _laughing_ at her?

Something inside Grace snapped.

She shoved Tom back hard, trying her best not to think about how delicious the sinewy muscles in his chest felt under her hennaed fingertips – but _definitely_ not thinking about what those abs she’d seen through his sweat soaked T-shirt earlier that morning would feel like _if she just ran her fingers down a little lower_.

Groaning audibly, Grace was bemused to note that Tom had barely even waivered on his feet.

Ten years of long supressed anger – and a good dose of frustrated arousal - suddenly bubbled up from deep within her own chest and she growled - _actually growled_ \- at him.

“I’m not the fucking actor around here… _Thomas!_ And _I’m_ not a fucking liar!”

Using the sharp end of her boney elbow to dig him in the lower ribs, Grace managed to somehow shove past Tom’s imposing frame and shakily pushed open the door to her bungalow.

Adrenaline coursing through his veins – _having felt Grace’s touch for the first time in ten years_ \- Tom ran his hand through his dishevelled raven locks, debating whether to follow her inside – whether she liked it or not. They had unfinished business as far as he was concerned.

No.

Let her stew on what had just happened, the way _he’d_ had to for ten fucking years…

Hearing the door click shut he leant closer and shouted “Night princess!” chuckling again to himself as he heard a muffled torrent of abuse hurled back at him through the closed door.

As he stalked back across the courtyard to his own bungalow his amusement turned swiftly back to anger as he replayed her words.  

Did that maddening woman actually infer that _he_ was the liar?

 _He_ wasn’t the one who’d fucking disappeared off the face of the earth with not so much as a word!

_Oh, he was going to make that bitch pay!_

And this time things would be on _his_ terms.

Tom smirked as he closed the door.

Oh yes.

Tom had plans for that infuriating woman…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a short one. The next one will make up for it I promise <3


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sangeet (similar to a rehearsal dinner, where all the wedding guests mingle and dance on the eve of the wedding)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV - Grace and Tom

 

That afternoon Grace silently fumed in her room as she bathed and got ready for the Sangeet party.

Tom was never far from her mind though, and as she put the finishing touches to her elegant updo, clipping in the jewelled hairclip, she went over their earlier interaction for what felt like the millionth time.

What had happened to the Tom she’d  _thought_  she'd known?

The Tom she’d  _thought_  she might even have  _loved_...

It seemed it wasn't just his hair colour that had changed! Who did he think he was, speaking to her like that?

Arrogant prick!

He had no fucking clue the shit she’d been through!

_Yeah, and whose fault was that Grace?_

She sighed, those ever present tendrils of guilt slowly tightening around her heart and making her forget why she was even mad at Tom. 

Because - _though she was ashamed to admit it_ – when she’d undressed she’d been embarrassed to find her panties soaked…

Christ, how could he still have that effect on her?

He hadn’t even _touched_ her!

Because, she realised, he hadn’t even needed to…

That startling realisation made Grace blush beetroot red and she swallowed a moan as she remembered her own touches. Firstly her nose, brushing against the soft cotton of Tom’s T-shirt as she inhaled his intoxicating scent. Then her fingertips as they pushed at his lean musculature, fighting the urge to explore every inch of him.

_Fuck!_

If Grace had been embarrassed at her reaction to their earlier contact, now she was downright mortified, feeling the tell-tale trickle of moisture once again between her thighs.

Oh this was getting ridiculous!

She needed to pull herself together.

Tom was _just_ a man.

Just another lying, manipulative man.

Nothing more…

Get a fucking grip woman!

As Grace huffed out an exasperated breath at her pathetic lack of self-control - trying instead to concentrate on doing her make up as she applied a smoky eye and blood red lipstick – she found her mind again wandering, as the only thing she seemed to be able to think about was which part of Tom she’d _really_ like to get a grip of…

Over on the other side of the courtyard, Tom smoothed down his royal blue [kurta](https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fimshopping.rediff.com%2Fimgshop%2F800-1280%2Fshopping%2Fpixs%2F17683%2F2%2F2102._mens-designer-royal-blue-color-unstitched-kurta-by-siyarams.jpg&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fshopping.rediff.com%2Fproduct%2Fmens-designer-royal-blue-color-unstitched-kurta-by-siyaram-s%2F13634362&docid=TocOD0W-e8B_9M&tbnid=lGqAvtzl1gQfNM%3A&vet=1&w=800&h=1094&bih=638&biw=1366&ved=0ahUKEwi5mrDypJTQAhUlIsAKHaW7BcEQMwgeKAEwAQ&iact=mrc&uact=8#h=1094&vet=1&w=800) and fastened the tiny buttons. Inspecting himself in the full length mirror with a critical eye, he sighed. Although the vibrant colour brought out the blue of his eyes, he still looked sickly pale, especially with this bloody jet black hair draining all the life from his skin.

He was under pain of death from Ken not to get a tan while he was away from filming, much to his chagrin.

_Still, no pain - no gain._

With another sigh he slicked back his hair and straightened his shoulders. Satisfied that his reflection was about as good as it was going to get, Tom made his way out and across the courtyard, casting a sneaky glance over towards Grace’s bungalow and wondering if she was already at the party.

His body responded instantly to the daydream of her intricately painted fingers dancing over his silk enrobed chest and he felt his cock twitch.

_Fuck!_

Looking down, Tom was relieved to see the loose cut of his white silk pyjama pants along with the stealthy fluid silk covering of his dark kurta was disguising his arousal quite nicely, and he breathed a satisfied sigh of relief.

It was a pity Sarah had wanted the groomsmen in formal tails tomorrow though, he realised. He could get used to the seductive feel of silk against his otherwise naked body.

It was as he was mulling over this very thought that Tom turned the corner - pushing open the doors into the garden - his breath catching.

_Wow!_

The large garden was bedecked with countless fairy lights and vivid floral decorations festooned from one end to another in intricate displays. The mingling guests were dressed in a myriad of vibrant colours, their silks gleaming like glowing jewels as the lights twinkled overhead. The piquant scent of spices wafted to his nostrils as an array of tantalising food on silver platters was circulated amongst the guests, while the lively beats of a bhangra band filled the humid air.  

But it wasn’t this mind-blowing feast on the senses that was suddenly causing Tom’s sensory overload.

Stood alone, shifting uncomfortably from one elegant silver shoed foot to the other was the most beautiful creature Tom had ever set eyes upon.

_Grace._

His eyes raked up and down the luscious curves of her body, taking in the exquisite detail of the finely embroidered deep blue silk [saree](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/fc/d1/ef/fcd1ef617eeb7434cc5acefa6ca40c38.jpg), its gauzy train more than hinting at the bare, golden flesh scarcely hidden underneath.  

Tom licked his lips, biting back a predatory growl as his already hard dick throbbed uncomfortably. He continued to watch Grace, intrigued and aroused in equal measures as she furtively looked around, seemingly lost.

It suddenly occurred to Tom that if he played his cards right, he might _still_ get to feel the exquisite brush of silk against his naked body tomorrow night.

Even if he wasn’t the one wearing it…

It was just as Tom was stifling a groan at the image of Grace in that very scenario – _her soft, silk enrobed breasts rubbing teasingly up and down his own bare chest_ – that the rest of the wedding party appeared at his shoulder, to a huge round of applause.

Shaking himself out of his delicious daydream, Tom quickly clasped his hands together in front of his crotch and prayed no-one noticed the now substantial bulge.

Reluctantly moving his eyes away from Grace – _but not before observing with more than a hint of satisfaction that she’d been squirming under his intense gaze_ – Tom turned to his own family and that of his prospective extended family, beaming from ear to ear as he took in the sight of his elder sister and her intended, both glowing with happiness.

His mum appeared alongside him, snaking her arm around his waist and giving him a squeeze, and Tom bent down and pecked her on the cheek affectionately.

It was good to be back amongst family. He missed them dearly when he was away working, which was becoming more and more frequent as his career took off.

The procession of family members made their way down the steps, following the couple into the throng of well-wishers.  As Tom’s feet reached the grass, his eyes flicked across to where Grace had been stood and found himself disappointed when he could no longer see her.

But his disappointment was short-lived as only moments later she appeared alongside his mother, chattering eagerly about how elegant the older woman looked in her deep fuchsia pink saree.

Tom found himself agreeing, his intense gaze wandering across from his mother and trailing down over Grace’s lush body as he sucked in his lower lip in contemplation before finally offering her the same compliment.

 _And all of this in front of his apparently oblivious mother!_ Grace thought, feeling a pink blush rise steadily up her exposed décolleté, continuing to her cheeks.

She tried to sound unaffected as she mumbled “Thanks, you look very smart too” but she knew – and worse, _she knew Tom knew_ – she was far from unaffected as a sudden shudder soared up her spine, causing her skin to break out in goosebumps despite the heavy tropical air.

Desperate to escape from Tom’s continuing stare - _noticing with alarm that Diana was now distracted, talking animatedly to Yakov’s mother who had joined the small group_ – Grace tried to excuse herself under the pretence of getting a drink.

“Excuse me” Tom called out to a passing waiter and before Grace could even turn, Tom was holding out a glass of champagne for her.

“Erm… thanks” she squirmed, a combination of surprise and annoyance causing her to frown.

It seemed that, despite her best attempts not to engage with Tom, the Gods had other plans. And this was neither the time nor place for a scene.

Grace would _not_ ruin her best friend’s wedding!

Instead she sipped from the glass, the cold bubbles refreshing under the heated gaze of Tom as he meanwhile innocently passed glasses to his and Yakov’s mothers, before taking his own flute.

Grace stared resolutely at Tom’s hand – which looked _enormous_ as it gripped the delicate glassware - refusing to make eye contact, but intensely aware of his eyes on her body. She began to wish she’d worn something less revealing, but she’d struggled with the heat ever since arriving in Chennai and when she’d originally picked out the two sarees she would be wearing for the formal events she’d known she wouldn’t have coped in anything heavier.

But that didn’t make her feel any less exposed as her eyes flicked up just long enough to see the same steely gaze that Tom had looked at her with, many years ago, _right before he’d bent her over her bloody car!_

Gulping back her champagne, Grace saw another waiter pass out of the corner of her eye and called him over. Gratefully taking a second glass she watched as Tom waved the waiter away, her eyes fixing back on his long fingers - _pianist fingers she always thought_ \- the enticingly prominent veins making her lick her lips.

She would much rather they played _her_ than any instrument…

_Oh!_

Grace bit back a groan at that thought and tried to force her brain to think about something else.

Something safe.

Anything else…

As was the law of sod, nothing – _absolutely nothing whatsoever_ – came to her racing mind except the thought of licking those damn veins, mapping out their course along the entire length of Tom’s pale, naked body with her tongue.

Tom watched, intrigued and more than a little aroused as Grace continued to squirm under his gaze, even though her own eyes stared resolutely at his fingers, her already pink cheeks growing redder and redder.

_This was going to be easier than he’d first thought…_

He smirked despite his company, but he had no need to worry about being caught. The two mothers were still deep in enthusiastic conversation about the wedding the following day, while Grace _still_ continued to stare at his hands.

Tom pondered whether to say something. To the innocent onlooker it must have looked incredibly awkward. But he couldn’t bring himself to break the peculiar connection between himself and Grace. And, he mused, at least while they weren’t speaking they weren’t arguing!

Tom had no idea how long they both stood there in contemplative silence, the spell only being broken by the announcement through the speakers that the formal dances were about to begin.

There was another round of applause intermingled with cheers. However, across from him Grace groaned loudly and Tom laughed, eliciting a pointed look of annoyance.

Clearly Grace _still_ wasn’t a fan of dancing!

It was as Tom was chuckling to himself at the memory of her two left feet that he found himself in the unexpected position of having Grace thrust forward into his arms by Emma, who had suddenly appeared from nowhere and was now giggling from ear to ear.

“You two _have_ to dance together! You’re both wearing exactly the same colour as if you’re a matching pair!”

This realisation seemed to hit the pair of them at the same time and they nervously laughed. Everyone around them – _where had all these people suddenly appeared from?_ – cheered, and before either of them knew what was happening, Tom and Grace found themselves pushed through the throng of people and onto the dancefloor where they were surrounded by several other couples.

Tom quirked an eyebrow at Grace, who looked up at him in mortification - or was that _fear_ – and his heart melted a tiny bit more.

He took Grace in his arms, snaking one hand to her waist but resisting the desperate urge to slide it under her saree, instead placing it reverently on top of the silky fabric, trying not to think about the hot, soft skin mere centimetres out of his reach.

Tom was brought back from his lascivious thoughts by the realisation that Grace was shaking under his hand.

_Oh God bless her!_

The poor thing _really_ hated dancing in front of a crowd!

For some unknown reason, chivalry overwhelmed Tom’s earlier annoyance with her and he leant his mouth to Grace’s ear.

“Just hold on, okay? I’ll get you through this…”

Grace let out a stuttering breath and nodded, her body relaxing.

 _Well, that is, relaxing as much as a body could relax when it finds itself pressed up far too close for comfort to an ex-lover who knows his way around a dancefloor - and her body_ …

It was with this in mind that Grace found herself being twirled around so fast her head was spinning. She clung to Tom, desperately pressing her body against his strong frame for support and willing herself not to trip, or worse – vomit!

Miraculously they made it to the end of the dance without either one of them sustaining any permanent injury, though judging by the stiff length now pressing insistently against Grace’s belly, Tom would need to stay away from any little people or he’d have their eye out!  

The dance ended and the couple immediately broke away from one another, with Grace mumbling an awkward thanks. She made her excuses and dashed off to the bathroom, locking herself in the cubicle for a good fifteen minutes or so. The truth was, she was feeling every bit as aroused as Tom clearly was.

Thankfully though, hers was much less obvious.

When she finally returned to the party, she found all the Hiddleston’s around a table, with Tom seemingly holding court.

Grace rolled her eyes but looking around she realised it was there or nowhere, as she didn’t know anyone else, so she reluctantly joined the table, just in time to hear Sarah questioning her brother.

“Anyway Tom. Did you bring the Hobnobs I asked for?” Grace watched as Tom looked apologetically at his sister.

“You _know_ I was out in LA. I couldn't get them through Customs!" Tom shook his head in disgust.

_LA?_

Tom was in America now?

Grace had to admit she was surprised – _and proud_ \- of him.

Not that she’d ever doubted his talent of course. But Grace had made a conscious decision not to follow his career. For all she’d known the part he’d dyed his hair for could have been for some low budget TV movie.

Of course, this new information didn’t change anything in her eyes. She wasn’t impressed by fame. That’s if he even was famous? It wasn’t like she followed stuff like that, especially out here in India.

Despite herself, she smiled reminiscently as she recalled the conversation they’d once had about Spielberg calling and wondered if Tom was any closer to that pipe dream.

For all their peculiar animosity now, she hoped he was.

Across the table, Tom caught Grace’s mouth turn up into an enigmatic smile as she stared off into the unknown and he smiled to himself, instinctively knowing he was one step closer to finally putting his plan into action.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with me? Next up, the wedding...
> 
> p.s. AO3 notifications are all over the place at the moment so if I don't reply to comments straight away, I promise i'm not ignoring you! <3


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Indian wedding reception and things are about to get bumpy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV - Tom and Grace
> 
> Just read the tags, okay? And buckle up my lovely ladies... ;)
> 
> Oh and there (hopefully) should be images of the wedding attire on the links in each description, 'cos we all like a bit of dress up, don't we! <3

 

The wedding was an enchanting affair. A brilliant blend of two cultures colliding together in perfect harmony. Blindingly bright silk clad guests mingled with sartorially elegant morning suited men in an effortlessly stylish fusion of ‘East meets West’.

The Hiddleston men and ushers wore midnight blue [morning suit](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/82/39/0e/82390e1665571122ac2148423d74b110.jpg) jackets, silver waistcoats and pale grey trousers, perfectly complimenting Yakov’s midnight blue and silver [sherwani](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/21/7e/7c/217e7c5b79bad207a38b7d80906ea984.jpg). Sarah wore a stunning [hybrid](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/fb/ff/5c/fbff5cdd18e5377f3b5d3f8ab8d1cafa.jpg) of a traditional western wedding dress and lengha in a glimmering pale silver, while the bridesmaids – Emma, Grace and Yakov’s cousin, Ananya – wore wedding sarees in contrasting jewel colours with gold and silver accents.

Tom had barely been able to take his eyes off Grace all day, her enticingly slender yet curvaceous body wrapped up like the most decadently sweet delicacy in the finest emerald green silk and gold [beadwork](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/e4/1d/e1/e41de173ea703a002bf2dff629ee19d3.jpg).

If he’d thought she’d looked beautiful last night, it was nothing to the way she looked today.

Whatever happened later – and if he got his way something _would_ happen – Tom knew he’d be having another night with Grace’s body connected with his own in the most intimate of possible embraces, _though tonight he hoped it wouldn’t be just in his dreams._

Oh yes, his plan was coming along nicely…

Last night, after the Sangeet, the wedding party had leisurely made their way back to their respective bungalows. Tom had walked along with his father, sharing a joke when Grace – _who he’d made sure to walk behind in order to admire the delicious sway of her arse_ – had suddenly stumbled on her heels.

Instinctively Tom had reached out and steadied her, his large hands easily circling her small waist and pulling her upright against him, before draping one arm almost possessively around her midriff in support. Grace had flinched at first, but clearly not wanting to draw attention or make a scene, she’d said nothing.

However his father had guffawed, causing both Grace and Tom to turn questioningly towards the older man.

“I’m sorry dear” he’d winked at Grace “but I just got a strange sense of déjà vu seeing you and Tom like that!”

Everyone else had turned at that comment, looking quizzically from James, to Grace and finally to Tom.

Sensing Grace’s discomfort Tom had chuckled light-heartedly, winking down at Grace’s mortified face and whispering  _‘Don’t worry. I’ve got this’_.

Tom had then proceeded to regale the captivated group with the tale of his first night in Edinburgh and Grace’s rather unfortunate reaction to her antibiotics, completely oblivious to the infinitely graver ramifications those very tablets were to later have on her body.

But Grace had said nothing, laughing along and relaxing – _actually relaxing!_ – into his embrace despite the flush of crimson on her cheeks, even going as far as to allow him to escort her to her door.  

“Thank you for that Tom” she’d smiled shyly.

Tom had smiled back, before bowing with an over the top flourish.

“You’re welcome. Goodnight Grace” he’d winked before reluctantly turning to leave.

“Always my knight in shining armour!” she’d whispered then, her voice tinged with what sounded like a hint of sadness.

Tom had stopped in his tracks and turned, but Grace had already disappeared inside her bungalow.

That night Tom had indeed dreamt of Grace. He’d imagined slowly unwrapping her from her silky confinement and ravaging her in lurid detail. No part of her had remained untouched and he’d woken to find himself gripping his angry cock tightly under his sweat soaked sheets.

Tom had finished himself off with thoughts of Grace sinking those devilishly red lips down onto his straining cock and sucking him just like she’d done all those years ago back in Scotland.

The truth was, no-one had ever come even close to giving as good a blow job as Grace.

Unfortunately the ejaculation as a result of Tom’s hand had not been anywhere near as satisfying as the memory of watching Grace swallow every single last drop of his cum.

At that realisation Tom had vowed that tonight would have to be the night…

*

For her part - _although unbeknownst to Tom_ \- Grace had experienced just as disturbed a night’s sleep.

Her mind and body had continued to fight against each other, even in her sleep it seemed. Sensual dreams of her most intimate moments with Tom all those many years ago clashed painfully with agonising nightmares of loss, separation and grief and Grace woke in a cold sweat, tears streaming down her cheeks and arousal running down her thighs.

She no longer even knew whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

_The one thing she knew with some degree of certainty was that she still wanted Tom…_

So badly – _she noted as she realised, with more than a hint of embarrassment, that her fingers were also wet with arousal_ \- that her body apparently reacted of its own volition.

Whether Tom _truly_ wanted her, she wasn’t quite so sure.

Oh, she’d seen the lascivious looks he’d given her last night. _He definitely wanted her body…_ She thought this without a hint of arrogance. She wasn’t blind, and she was no longer quite so naïve when it came to men. Of course there was also the physical evidence to back up her theory. She’d felt Tom’s excitement pressing eagerly into her belly as they’d danced, and as she reminded herself, that wasn’t something you could fake.

But Tom’s behaviour was confusing to her. One minute he seemed to be mocking her, the next he was back to the kind, caring man she’d thought she’d once loved…

This dichotomy worried her deeply. Almost as deeply as the thought of having to talk to Tom about everything that had happened between them.

Because if there was one thing she had learned over the past ten years, it was that if there was any hope of something, _anything_ , being rekindled between them – _Oh God! Was she truly even contemplating this?_ \- there could no longer be any lies.

 _Everything_ would have to be out in the open.

That would, of course, mean opening Pandora’s Box. The question was, was she ready for the repercussions of that?

Perhaps more worryingly, _was Tom?_

*

Once the vows had been exchanged and the ceremony had finished, everyone had sat down to a sumptuous banquet before reconvening in the garden.

Just like the previous night, the landscaped lawn was lit up with the glow of thousands of fairy lights. Even more flowers had been brought in for the festivities with pookalams scattered over the four corners of the garden. The bhangra band of the Sangeet had been replaced with a traditional [Carnatic group](http://www.carnaticindia.com/videos/jugalbanti08.html) followed by a DJ, who was playing an eclectic mix of western and Bollywood tunes, intermingled with the latest hits.

The evening began with dancing. _Lots_ of dancing!

And alcohol.

Lots of alcohol in Tom’s case.

_He needed some Dutch courage to put his plan into action…_

In fairness everyone appeared to be in high spirits Tom mused as he surveyed the crowd. Licking his lips, he watched on in amused fascination as Grace reluctantly shuffled behind Emma and Ananya towards the stage where the DJ was coming to the end of playing a Bollywood tune that had got most of the guests up off their feet.

Sarah stood and turned back to her husband with an affectionate wink – _Tom’s heart swelling at the sight of them so obviously in love, wondering if he’d ever experience that again_ \- before she climbed down the steps and joined the three other women on the dancefloor.

Intrigued, Tom stepped forward to get a better view of whatever was about to happen. Suddenly the music changed to a familiar song with a less familiar musical arrangement. To the strains of a Bollywood influenced [Voulez Vouz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=za05HBtGsgU), the four women began to dance, swaying their hips and twirling in a dizzying array of moves. Tom’s eyes of course remained fixed on Grace throughout.

She was simply breath-taking as she swayed to the frenetic beat of the music in the emerald green and gold saree, her scarlet painted lips set in deep concentration as her delicately painted fingers weaved _not so graceful_ shapes over her head as she tried to keep in time with the others. Her skin gleamed, golden brown, bathed in a fine sheen of perspiration as the heavy humidity clung to her body and combined with her frustrated attempts to keep up with the energetic routine.

Clearly this had been planned.

Clearer still was that Grace was no more graceful on the dancefloor than he remembered.

Tom couldn’t help but to laugh loudly. She was frighteningly out of sync but utterly beguiling as her brows furrowed deeply and she spun around, not at all elegantly and almost bumping into Emma who just smiled sympathetically.

Tom’s eyes momentarily flicked around him and it seemed that he wasn’t the only person captivated by Grace’s performance. Everyone was smiling and cheering the four women on, and he noticed Sarah whispering encouragements to her best friend as they all turned again, this time to face Yakov up on the stage, and wiggled their hips.

Tom’s eyes raked up and down Grace’s back, fascinated by the lights catching the intricate gold and green beadwork on the back of her saree blouse, but even more fascinated by the undulation of her sinuous spine as she moved.

As the song came to an end, a rapturous roar of cheers broke out around him and Tom enthusiastically joined in.

Despite all the fumbles, Grace had somehow still totally pulled it off.

_Well, at least he thought so…_

Forgetting all his pre-planned notions, Tom surged forward, intent on grabbing her as she left the dancefloor.

But before he’d even had chance to make it that far he found himself being grabbed by Yakov’s brother and one of his own cousins, along with his father.

Yakov stepped down from the stage and before Tom knew what was happening he found himself in a line-up of men as they began to dance to [Chammak Challo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4EZHGFK-1c) while the women who had just finished dancing looked on with amusement.

Grace smirked as she watched, for once, Tom totally out of his element on the dancefloor. None of the British men had a clue what they were doing and were blindly trying to copy Yakov and his brother.

However, no sooner had Grace begun to - _not so secretly_ \- gloat that for once she was not the only dud on the dancefloor, Tom _had_ to go and pick up the moves.

And with fucking relish!

Ugh! Was there _nothing_ this man couldn’t dance to?

Grace silently groaned, yet inadvertently licked her lips as she watched Tom’s lean, muscular forearms peeking out from under his rolled up shirt sleeves move effortlessly through the air while his thigh muscles seemed to fight with the seams of his tightly tailored trousers.

And just to make her even _more_ uncomfortable, all the while he was dancing, Tom’s eyes didn’t stray from hers.

Grace stood, rooted to the spot. Her senses in overload. Her emotions not fairing much better. 

Why did Tom have to look so drop dead gorgeous in a suit? Was it not enough that he’d looked sinfully sexy last night in that deep blue surta?

_Was there nothing this man could wear that would make him less attractive to her?!_

The memory of him naked suddenly flashed through her brain and she whimpered, feeling the sweat begin to gather between her breasts under the intense heat permeating her body from both inside and out.

Really?

 _Really brain?_ _You’re going to taunt me with that image now?!_ Grace groaned audibly and broke eye contact with Tom long enough to spot a passing waiter. She grabbed a glass of champagne and drained it in one long gulp. She needed to douse the fire igniting once again in her groin before she did something stupid…

Setting down the empty glass, Grace turned back just in time for the music to end. Thinking this was her opportunity to escape she started to move but Sarah stopped her.

“You can’t go yet Grace! It’s the mixed dancing now!” she shouted excitedly and Grace rolled her eyes.

“Oh please. Just send me to hell right now why don’t you!”

Sarah just laughed but Grace was serious.

It couldn’t be any worse than this!

She would soon come to regret that thought though, as she was once again shoved in the direction of Tom – all the while swearing she was going to _punch_ the next person who did that in the dick – as the crowd erupted when the DJ started playing [Jai Ho](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yc5OyXmHD0w).

She didn't know if it was Tom, or the frenetic beats but her heart was pounding in her chest as she tried to ignore his proximity and how it was affecting her body. For the next few minutes she found herself being mauled – _fucking mauled!_ – by Tom’s hands as he enthusiastically rubbed his entire body, but in particular his crotch against her lower back, all under the pretence of some supposedly innocent group wedding dance!

Grace was infuriated - _and aroused_ \- in equal measure. Yet no-one else seemed to even notice!

Of course, Tom never said a word the entire time, but it was damn clear from the bulge sticking into her back that he was getting just as much stimulation out of this as she was.

And yet the second the song came to an end Tom released her as if it had been _her_ jumping on him!

_She was so fucking confused!_

Again she tried to escape the dancefloor, but this time it was her own excitement that won over as [Mr Brightside](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gGdGFtwCNBE) began to play. It was one of her favourite songs and thankfully everyone seemed to separate, giving Grace the opportunity to just enjoy singing along with very little attempts at awkward dance moves, save for the obligatory hand gestures.

Tom watched again in rapt fascination as Grace lost herself completely in the music.

_Fuck! He wanted her so badly!_

Feeling her hot body pressed up against him only moments earlier had damn near made him come in his pants, especially as she’d wriggled and squirmed against him. He didn’t know whether that was her trying to escape, or just more of her bloody awful dance moves, but either way he’d been on the brink and had been thankful when the song had finally ended so he could recompose himself!

Reluctantly training his eyes away from Grace, Tom searched for a waiter. He was suddenly parched. With none in sight Tom set of in search of refreshment.

Grace continued, oblivious to Tom’s - _or anyone else’s for that matter_ – stares as the song reached its crescendo. When the song ended, gasping for breath and now also desperate for a pee, Grace finally managed to escape and made her way up to the main house where the toilet facilities were situated.

On her way back out she found a waiter and grabbed another glass of champagne, intending to find a quiet spot to sit and cool down. Despite the sun having set hours ago, the heat was still oppressive and she stood back from the overwhelming myriad of lights and wafted the train of her saree around, hoping to create some sort of breeze as she sipped at the cool alcohol.

“Aha, [tempus fugit](http://www.standard.co.uk/lifestyle/esmagazine/faking-bad-meet-hollywoods-nicest-villain-tom-hiddleston-8886197.html) my dear Grace!”

Grace jumped.

_When was he going to stop creeping up on her like that?!_

“Tom!”

“Grace…?” Tom purred against her ear with what felt like a smirk.

“What are you trying to do to me?” Grace groaned, moving a step forward and hopefully out of his reach.

She _had_ intended her question to be innocent - _referring to Tom making her jump_ \- but when Tom stepped forward again, pressing his body close to hers once more and breathing hotly against her neck Grace immediately regretted it.  

“I think you know _exactly_   what I’m trying to do to you…” Tom hummed, his lips barely brushing the fine hairs of Grace’s neck and causing her skin to break out in goosebumps.

She gasped and tried to move away again but Tom gripped her hip forcefully and continued “and I think you _want_ me to do it to you just as much, judging by the way you keep squirming against me! Let’s stop playing these silly little games Grace, neither one of us is a child anymore!”

Grace bristled at the inference and shrugged away his hand, swirling around unsteadily on her heels and fixing him with a hurt glare.

Tom’s usually bright blue eyes were dark and wild even in the dim light and they made Grace shiver, not only in fear but something much more primal.

_Lust._

She tried to remain resolute, reminding herself of what she’d been through. What they’d _both_ been through – even though Tom didn’t have some of the facts.

“We were a train wreck together you and I Tom! We hurt each other every time we got together...” Grace’s voice trembled but she continued “I don't think I could survive another crash... I can't do it Tom. I _won't_ do it...”

Grace was close to tears as she again tried to move away, setting her glass down on the nearby windowsill, but Tom was oblivious.

The alcohol he’d downed before he’d found her was coursing through his veins now. He knew what he wanted and nothing, and _nobody_   was going to stop him from getting it tonight.

_Grace._

He grabbed hold of her hand before she could resist and laced his fingers through hers, trying another tack as he gave her his best puppy dog eyes.

Grace tried to pull her hand away but Tom’s fingers tightened, not painfully, but just enough to exert his dominance and she bit her lip, the tiniest flutter of excitement piercing through her steely resolve despite herself.

Tom leant closer.

“But Grace. It’s our duty!” he purred into her ear, his hot breath sending a fresh batch of goosebumps up and down her bare golden skin “You’re the bridesmaid and I’m…” he paused, knitting his eyebrows together as he seemingly tried to remember _who_ he actually was “ _Well!_ I’m the bride’s brother…” he smirked, finally satisfied with his argument as he lecherously leant even closer, his lips now brushing against the shell of her ear “surely that’s got to count for _something_ around here…”

Grace rolled her eyes, desperately trying to remain composed under Tom’s lascivious assault on her senses.

_And yet this time she didn’t pull away._

Tom’s feverishly hot tongue licked a pathway down from the shell of her ear to the lobe and sucked the fleshy morsel between his lips, grazing his teeth over it and delighting in the surprised whimper that passed through Grace’s scarlet lips.

Before Grace could protest further Tom had twirled her around and pulled her back against him and into the shadows, making no attempt to disguise his growing erection as he rubbed himself against her lower back. Grace tried to ignore the arousal that immediately pooled between her thighs as he tightened his long fingers around her waist, blatantly bending his knees so he could grind his now stiff cock harder against the rounded globes of her ass.

She inadvertently let out a low moan and Tom grinned smugly to himself.

No one could resist him these days!

He could have _any_   woman.

 _Even_ Grace.

She was like putty in his hands.

 _Even after all these years_.

With a self-satisfied smirk he slid his fingers down from her waist, digging them possessively into her lush hips and returned his mouth to her ear.

“Can you feel that Grace? _Can you?”_ he chuckled now with a much more confident air.

Not waiting for her to reply, Tom growled “Of course you can! See what you do to me? My cock’s _aching_ to be inside that tight cunt of yours again. Fuck! I’ve missed it _sooo much!”_

Grace gasped at the vulgarity of Tom’s words but she was ashamed to say she couldn’t deny the effect they were having on her already aroused body.

There was something almost evil in the way Tom was taunting her with his body, and even though his lewd words _should_   have made her see sense, Grace found her defenses fading away as he moved his mouth to her other ear, licking another long line down from her lobe to the gentle dip at the base of her neck, where he began to suck on her perspiration-dampened skin.

“Mmm… so good” Tom growled.

Her already hot skin felt like it was suddenly on fire and she involuntarily arched back into his throbbing crotch, elucidating a satisfied grunt as Tom’s teeth sunk into her flesh, resulting in a surprised yelp from Grace that wasn’t altogether in pain.

“Sshh darling… You don’t want to give us away now, do you? I’m only just getting started…”

Grace bit back another moan at Tom’s overt promise.

The touch paper had been lit and there would be no extinguishing the inevitable fire burning between them now.

Tom slid one hand back up from her hip, his long fingers gliding confidently under the gossamer fine fabric of her saree, and settling onto her bare midriff with a predatory growl. Grace threw her head back against Tom’s hard chest and moaned, her body melting under his illicit touch as he enticed her even more by stroking her silky soft skin.

"God I want you _so_ badly Grace… my cock is _aching_ for you! Please... _please_... let me fuck you..."

Grace shivered as Tom continued whispering in her ear.

Filthy things.

Dirty, obscene things.

Things that had Grace licking her lips and trying in vain to squeeze her thighs together.

This was not the sweet, innocent Thomas that she’d once known. This was a hot, virile man in his prime. Grace could no longer deny the pleasure his expert touch was exerting on her body. But the biggest surprise were the words coming out of his mouth.

_Christ!_

The man was filthy as fuck!

Perhaps even more surprising, Grace _loved_ every word of it! The juxtaposition between his deep, elegant cadence and the vulgarity of his vocabulary had her squirming with barely concealed need.

Tom growled again into her ear “Grace… _baby_ … please? I want you so much…  _please?_  ”

It had been so long since anyone had told her they wanted her.

_It had been even longer since she’d been called baby…_

Her body sagged at that realisation and before she could even respond Tom had grabbed her forearm tightly and was dragging her from the relative privacy of the darkened corner of the reception area and down the perfumed walkway of the hotel’s grounds leading to a much smaller, secluded garden, bedecked with fairy lights just like the larger garden.

It was a garden Grace had never noticed before.

Had Tom _planned_   this?

The thought stopped her in her tracks and Tom turned in annoyance, his darkened locks falling across his now impatient eyes as he gave her a cautionary glance.

Grace gasped at the intensity in his eyes, her body blindly reacting as it overrode all her instincts to question, her feet moving again, almost of their own accord.

Tom continued to move at pace, pulling Grace along behind him.

“Ouch! Where… where are we going… _Tom?”_

Grace’s voice was almost breathless now with a heady mixture of pain and desire as she tried to keep up with Tom’s ridiculously long legs in her stiletto sandals on the uneven footpath.

“Trust me…” was all he would say.

“This is madness!” Grace muttered under her breath and Tom froze, causing Grace to bump into his back with a muffled “Oof!”

He turned quickly on his heels, forcing Grace to lean her head back sharply to look up at him, only to find Tom staring down at her - his eyes ablaze with feral need - and that really was it.

All rational thought completely evaporated from Grace’s brain, save for one – _vital -_ question.

“Do… erm… do you even have a… erm… _fuck…!”_ Grace’s face was crimson as she shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly and stuttered.

“Condom?” Tom growled impatiently, one eyebrow raised, almost mockingly as he dangled the foil square between two of his elegant fingers.

Grace gulped and nodded.

Before she could even begin to process _why_   Tom would be walking around his sister’s wedding with a condom in his pocket, he was moving again, dragging her down some steps and through a small gate before stopping abruptly.

Tom brusquely pushed Grace up against the tall flower covered trellis, one hand clutching her bare midriff, the other still gripping her forearm. Grace winced and Tom intuitively relaxed his grip slightly. However rather than releasing her forearm altogether, he instead slid his large palm down the soft skin, past her wrist and down to her own palm.

He laced his fingers through hers and lifted her arm up high above her head, simultaneously pressing his hard body against her softer one in a display of dominance. 

As Grace gulped a deep breath, the intoxicating scents of jasmine, cape lilies, rajanigandha and that citrusy scent which was undeniably ‘Tom’ invaded her nostrils as her back crushed the fragrant blooms, and she sighed with pleasure as his lips _finally_   pressed gently against her own.

Tom took his sweet time, his lips taunting Grace’s in the chastest of kisses. And yet there was _nothing_ chaste about the way his hips dipped and began to writhe against her crotch.

Grace moaned against Tom’s mouth and she could have sworn he smirked. But before she could process that thought his tongue darted out, tracing her pouting lips before slowly, languorously, slipping between them and plundering her welcoming heat.

This time it was Tom who moaned, the vibrations rumbling from deep within his chest as they simultaneously reverberated through his talented tongue inside Grace’s keenly sucking mouth. Meanwhile his hips pressed ever more insistently against her clothed pussy.

Grace grew impatient. It had been well over a year since her last sexual encounter, a drunken one night stand with an ex-colleague that had been over almost before it had even begun, and who mercifully had left India the following week. It had - _of course_ – been much, _much_   longer since she’d been this close to Tom, and by God, the years had been kind to him.

Gone were the blond curls and sweet, boyish face that she had adored all those years ago, but rather than mourn their loss, Grace chose to revel in the altogether more carnal being now sucking and nibbling at her neck, all the while still muttering pure filth.

But she couldn’t wait any longer.

Tom’s talented mouth was back taunting hers, while his free hand lazily stroked her nipple into a hard peak through the fine silk of her saree.

She slid her own free hand down between them, finally touching the evidence of the effect _she_ was having on him.

It was a heady thought - _realising she could still have such a primal effect on such a sexy man -_ and it spurred Grace blindly on as she fumbled with the closure of Tom’s trousers, finally releasing his hard dick from its confinement.

Grace began to grow in confidence - _and conviction_ – as the flesh memory of her small hand wrapping almost completely around Tom’s thick cock caused another wave of arousal to seep down her thighs.

Tom groaned as Grace began to slide her soft fingers up and down his length, stroking him into a frenzy.

“Stop!” he grunted, knowing he was already close.

_He’d said he wanted to fuck her, and fuck her he would!_

“Give me the condom…” Grace whispered, almost shyly and Tom looked down at her, his heart pounding in his chest as he was suddenly transported back ten years, the memory of Grace taking him in her mouth for the very first time flashing through his head for some unknown reason.

_He almost wavered in his plan at the thought._

However, he was brought well and truly back to the here and now by the cool snap of the condom being rolled down his sensitive cock.

Grace certainly seemed to know what she was doing.

Shaking his head free of such troublesome thoughts, Tom’s hand started to rise up Grace’s thigh, roughly tugging the saree skirt up with it until the fabric was bunched around her waist and exposing her bare legs, all the while kissing and sucking at her neck.

His blind fingers left a trail of goosebumps as they rose up Grace’s inner thigh, freezing as they touched bare, wet lips.

Tom groaned loudly against Grace’s neck, and involuntarily bucked his hips as he finally pulled his mouth away from her sweet skin and growled.

" _Nothing?_   Fuck... Grace!" Tom’s voice was deep, gravelly as his eyes fell to Grace’s naked, hairless pussy and watched as his fingers slowly parted her glistening folds.

He didn't immediately push inside, instead he teased and taunted her, the rough pads of his lithe fingers merely tracing the outline of each labia in a decadent display of torment.

"All this fucking time?!" he hissed.

Grace’s cheeks blazed red and she could only nod. The truth was, the skirt of her saree had been _so_ tight because of the weight she’d put on that no matter what underwear she’d tried it had looked a mess. She’d figured _what nobody knew would hurt nobody_.

Well. Somebody _definitely_ knew now.

And that person was now punishing her impudence with a tortuously slow stroke of her dripping slit.

With a growl, Tom suddenly kicked her feet apart, causing her to wobble on her heels. Stabilising her with an arousal soaked hand on her hip, he kissed her feverishly again before his steadying hand moved, sliding back down so that his palm cupped her bare mound and his fingers parted her sodden folds.

“You always were so fucking wet for me…” he groaned.

Grace whined and Tom relented his teasing, sinking two long digits roughly into her velvety depths and curling them, simultaneously applying pressure to her mound with his palm.

Grace cried out loudly, her moans quickly swallowed by Tom’s mouth as his talented fingers plundered her throbbing depths, repeatedly hitting that spot that only he had ever managed to reach.

Or even _find_ , for that matter…

She couldn't stop herself from bucking her hips in time with each thrust of Tom’s gifted fingers, her juices dripping down and mingling with the sweat that was now sliding down Tom’s forearm from his feverishly excited – _but still suited_ \- body in the oppressive humidity.

"I _need_   to come!" Grace whined, her craving desperately coiling deep inside her belly.

Tom growled “Then come! Come all over my hand Grace… do it! _Do it!!”_   urging her on before swallowing her gasps and groans again with his mouth.

Grace’s orgasm was quick, violent and messy. Tom almost came undone himself just from watching her head thrown back in such exquisite ecstasy as her soaking walls clamped down around his dripping fingers.

Before Grace could even process what was happening she felt herself being lifted up - _her back crushing even more flowers, and further fragrancing the air around them_ \- as Tom pressed her body hard into the dense trelliswork.

Instinctively, Grace wrapped her thighs around Tom’s waist, her sudden need to be closer – and completely _filled by him_ – making her body act almost on autopilot.

Tom entwined his fingers once again with Grace’s and anchored them up against the floral fencing, kissing her like a man possessed.

Grace could hardly breathe.

Every sense seemed to be on overload as she struggled to process what was happening, how fucking _good_ it felt, and how stupid she was being to even _allow_ it to happen!

But her frankly insincere mental protest was nothing compared with the cry of pleasure which followed as Tom suddenly impaled her onto his huge cock.

For the longest moment they just stood there. Completely still. Their bodies becoming reacquainted in the most intimate way possible as Grace’s tight pussy struggled to accommodate Tom’s generous length.

_Jesus!_

Had he always been _this_ big?

Just as Grace gathered her wits, impatiently opening her mouth to protest at the lack of movement, Tom silenced her with his lips once more, mumbling incoherent words. He still had one of her hands pinned against the floral trellis for support as Grace tightened her thighs around his hips in desperation, urging him to move.

She was shocked at his core strength – _fighting away vivid flashbacks of their last, disastrous, upright assignation way back in Edinburgh on that rickety old table_ \- as Tom began to pummel her aching cunt into the shaking fence whilst tugging a handful of her sleek hair between his fist and gripping the wooden supports of the trellis, the subsequent discomfort just on the right side of pain as his grip forced Grace’s head back and exposed her sleek neck to his brutal kisses.

As he anchored Grace against the fence with both his hands and his rutting body, it was almost as if Tom was desperate to stop her from suddenly disappearing again, and both her heart and her pussy clenched at the profundity of that.

Confident in Tom’s strength, Grace stretched the arm that she’d been using to grip his shoulder up above her head, mirroring her other - still entwined in Tom’s tight embrace – and gripped the trellis, thus allowing her, in effect, to hang down completely at Tom’s mercy.

Tom grunted, a loud, almost feral noise at the sight of Grace surrendering herself so openly to him, her back arching and her tits thrust out distractingly close to his panting mouth.

_Fuck!_

He wished he could get to them, suck those tauntingly hard nipples - _tormenting him through the thin, and now sweat dampened, silk_ – into his hungry mouth, and watch Grace’s wanton face as he tormented _her_ instead.

He briefly wondered if she was wearing _anything at all_ under her saree, such was the crystal clear definition of her pebbled nipples.

That thought only made Tom’s hips work even harder, suddenly desperate to strip her naked in his room and find out.

_Oh!_

That had not been in his plan…

Oh well. Another fuck would do no harm.

_Would it?_

Grace’s pussy abruptly clenched and Tom shook his head free of any other thought but the here and now as he renewed his efforts, driving both their orgasms towards completion.

“You’ll come back to _my_   bungalow tonight…” Tom growled as his fingers furiously rubbed Grace’s engorged clit, the subsequent fluttering and tightening around Tom’s dick signalling her approaching orgasm and setting his own off as he thrust once, twice and…

_“Fuck!”_

The invitation Tom had uttered moments before he’d come had not been a question, and Grace was in absolutely no mind to argue.

_“Oh Fuck… Yes… Yes!!”_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we all still alive? ;)
> 
> *DISCLAIMER* I HAVE A PLAN - AND MY PLAN IS BETTER THOUGHT OUT THAN THOMAS'S (or Grace's for that matter!)... Okay? ;)
> 
> Right, so it's been nearly fifteen years since the last Indian wedding I attended so please don't shoot me for inaccuracies - and anyway, remember this is a fusion wedding (AND a fan fic one for that matter!). Also, before the Bollywood purists pull me up on it, I know Chammak Challo wasn’t released until 2011 but it fit nicely here so sue me, okay? ;)
> 
> A HUGE thank you to everyone following this story. I LOVE each and every one of you guys! I know I keep saying this but I have an assignment due next week so you might have to wait for the next chapter... Sorry in advance <3


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom takes Grace back to his bungalow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV - Tom and Grace
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to [DeathByUKMen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByUKMen) because she was desperate for a happy ending and while it's not the one I sense she's ultimately wanting it's the best I can do right now ;)
> 
> Tbh there is very little plot in this chapter but I felt like we all probably needed some good old fashioned smutty fun after the last 24 hours...
> 
> So erm yeah, DEFINITELY NSFW...

 

If you were to ask Grace the finer details of how she came to be outside Tom’s bungalow that night, even now she would struggle to answer.

Driven only by lust and longing, the lovers somehow found themselves pressed against one another as Tom fumbled with the door, their once refined outfits crumpled and bearing the tell-tale signs of their al fresco assignation as their hands and mouths urgently sought to continue their passionate reunion.

Gasping as Tom once again sunk his teeth into the tender skin at the base of her neck, nipping and sucking at the already purple mark, Grace’s cry was muffled by Tom’s hand over her mouth as his other hand _finally_ guided them both inside.

Though it had been Tom who’d been the instigator of events that evening, once inside it was Grace who immediately pounced on Tom, her hands impatiently groping at the buttons of his dress shirt and pulling it open.

With the help of her, Tom shirked off his shirt and waistcoat in one hurried movement and Grace moaned appreciatively as she trailed her hands slowly over his pale skin, pausing to stroke an enticing nipple.

The man standing before her was most definitely _not_ the same man she’d given her virginity to. The pleasingly solid but slim musculature of 18 year old Tom had been replaced by something altogether more masculine, more intimidating. Whilst still lean, Tom’s chest had filled out, and with it a light dusting of soft hair now covered his sternum. Grace bit her lip, overwhelmed with the desire to nuzzle her cheek against it.

But it was his washboard abs and another dusting of dark blond hair disappearing down under the waistband of his tented trousers which _really_ attracted her attention, and she whimpered as Tom grinned cockily down at her, his long digits making fast work of unbuttoning his trousers only to reveal another surprise.

Underneath those trousers Tom was stark bollock naked, his thick cock now standing proudly to attention.

How had she not even noticed _that_ little detail when they had been outside?

_Probably because you were having your brains sucked out by Tom’s mouth at the time woman!_

Grace licked her lips and pushed him back onto the bed, moving between his splayed naked thighs - _herself still fully dressed_ – and kneeling to remove first his shoes, followed by the trousers pooled at his ankles and finally his socks.

Tom watched all this with intrigue, fighting the urge to just grab Grace and fuck her again. Having now had a taste of her he found himself hungry for more.

_So much more…_

But he fought his craving, fascinated by the fastidious way in which Grace was now beginning to explore his legs, her delicate fingers tracing the veins in his feet before cupping his ankles and stroking her hands up and around his calves, massaging the tight muscles there.

Tom sighed in pleasure and Grace continued her ascent, silently gliding her hands up and under his knees before pulling him closer – _his cock bobbing so tantalisingly close that she licked her lips_ \- so that his arse was now perched on the edge of the bed and his spread thighs caged her much smaller frame.

For the briefest moment Tom thought she was going to sink her lips around his cock and he readied himself.

_But no._

The tormenting vixen kneeling in front of him instead slid her hands up to his hamstrings and began massaging them instead, all the while watching his face for any sign of discomfort.

Despite his simmering desire, Tom let out a groan of enjoyment and ran his hands gently through her tousled hair, smoothing it down before breaking out into unexpected laughter as his fingers suddenly plucked out a handful of stray jasmine flowers.

The laughter broke through the intensity with which Grace had been staring up at him and Tom finally spoke.

“However wonderful your massage feels baby, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do since yesterday…”

“Oh yes?” Grace purred, short-circuiting all his rational thought as she suddenly leant forward and softly lapped at the pre-cum pooling at the tip of Tom’s painfully swollen cock.

“Was it this by any chance?” she giggled seductively as she pulled her lips away, much to Tom’s whine of disappointment.

Tom groaned and hooked his hands under Grace’s armpits, lifting her upright and pulling her clothed body against his naked, seated form.

“No! It wasn’t _that_ Grace…” Tom growled darkly “although that _was_ pretty good!”

Tom then buried his face against her chest, seeking out her nipples through the fine silk and sucked them hungrily into hard peaks.

Grace threw her head back and moaned “Must have just been me then…” as Tom’s hands ran down her sides from her shoulders to her hips and back up again before reluctantly pulling his mouth away from her aching nipples, but not before nipping at one particularly stiff one with his teeth.

 _“Oh God Tom…!”_ Grace gasped “I want to feel you naked against me… _please!”_

“Now you’re getting the idea…” Tom smirked as one hand reverently gathered the gauzy fabric of Grace’s saree from her shoulder, wrapping it around his fingers and gently pulling it, simultaneously spinning her on the spot so that the pleats of saree fabric around her waist began to unravel, in turn revealing more and more of the decadent prize awaiting him underneath.

Dizzy due to the speed with which she’d been spun, Grace automatically reached out and grabbed Tom’s shoulders for support.

Once Grace had been unwrapped, Tom was able to admire the outline of her pussy lips – _now_ _clearly visible through the almost sheer silk underskirt_ \- with a low growl of “fucking tease” before impatiently forcing the tight fabric down over her sumptuous hips and arse.

Grace now stood bare from the midriff down, save for her stiletto sandals as Tom’s eyes raked up and down her body appraisingly,  before settling on the arousal glistening at her shaved centre.

“Christ Grace! You look even better naked than I remembered” Tom hissed predatorily, unconsciously wrapping one large hand around his cock and stroking it indulgently.

Trying not to get distracted by Tom’s lascivious stare as he palmed the one thing she desperately wanted buried back inside her, Grace's flushed face frowned.

“But I’m _not_ completely naked…” she whined huskily, her hands reaching up behind her back ready to remove the final barrier between them, only to have Tom release his cock and instead grab both her arms, effectively stopping her.

“You’re right darling…” Tom let go and shuffled back on the bed, pulling Grace along with him until she was kneeling over his ankles as he growled “But I want to feel your silk covered tits on my cock first! _That’s_ what I’ve been dreaming about since last night…”

Grace gasped in shock but did not fight him, instead allowing Tom to wriggle back further so that his head was propped up on the pillows at the other end of the huge bed.

Noting the glint of excitement in Tom’s eyes, Grace was reminded of the younger - less experienced - Tom and she relaxed, taking her sweet time to firstly remove her sandals and toss them onto the floor, before slowly, sensuously, prowling up his body.

Grace trailed her silk covered chest slowly up over Tom’s long feet, along his ridiculously long, leanly muscled legs – _runners legs_ she remembered – up his thicker thighs, while taking the opportunity to taunt him again with the merest trace of her hot breath over his weeping head, before _finally_ rubbing her silk clad breasts up and down his cock’s considerable length.

Tom was sighing blissfully, marvelling at how Grace had not even flinched at the somewhat weird suggestion, and remembering fondly how open she had always been to trying new things. After several exquisite rubs of his cock she began to climb again, settling her body against his own and spreading her thighs, this time replacing her breasts with her wet heat.

Tom instinctively bucked against her and they both moaned loudly, Grace dropping her head and moving her lips to the point where Tom’s throat met his collar bone, tracing the fine features with the tip of her nose before slowly licking Tom's sweat slicked pulsing jugular.

Meanwhile Tom’s hands spread out behind Grace’s back, tugging at the fastenings of her saree blouse and finally freed her from its confines before rolling her over and pinning her naked breasts underneath him as he slipped his tongue into her panting mouth and hungrily swallowed her gasps.

The five o’clock shadow on Tom’s jaw bristled against Grace’s delicately soft skin as he nuzzled her, lapping at her plump lips before starting his tortuous descent down her neck and to each aching bud, greeting them like old friends.

Grace’s hands weaved through Tom longer - but just as silky - hair, enjoying the hiss that accompanied each tug as he hungrily nipped and licked at her nipples.

When he reluctantly broke away Grace moaned in disappointment but her whines were soon replaced by blissful sighs as he peppered the golden flesh of her abdomen with butterfly kisses and indulgent licks in a moment of silent worship, reacquainting himself with every inch of her body.

“I don't remember this...?”

Grace froze as Tom’s mouth suddenly broke free, long enough for one of his fingers to trail lightly over the faded silvery scar on her lower abdomen.

_This was her chance._

Her chance to _finally_ set the record straight about everything that had happened all those years ago.

So it came as quite the shock when, instead of telling Tom what it _actually_ signified, she heard something altogether different coming out of her mouth.

“That’s because you’re getting old _Thomas…_ ”

Tom quirked his eyebrow up at her, nuzzling the scar with his nose, before growling teasingly.

And just like that Grace once again managed to sidestep the truth.

Her head was reeling from her deceit but Tom was oblivious as he continued south, pushing her thighs wide and momentarily staring down at her bare pink pussy, licking his lips and scenting her before diving in, his tongue lapping at her dewy lips like a starving man, before slipping two long fingers into her soaking channel.

“Oh God!” Grace writhed underneath him, all troublesome thoughts evaporating in response to Tom’s heady assault on her senses with his fingers and maddeningly talented tongue. She moaned and whined in equal measure as his lips moved to her pulsing clit and sucked until Grace exploded against his mouth, wailing in rapturous ecstasy.

And then Tom crawled back up over her, rubbing his cock along her weeping slit even before she could come down from her high, much less have the chance to brace herself - _or think about condoms_ \- and suddenly surged forward, bottoming out in one single, fierce thrust into her abused pussy and stretching her with his thick cock.

 _“Christ Grace!”_ Tom groaned “You always were the perfect fit for me…”

Grace shrieked but Tom didn't seem to notice - or if he did he didn't seem to care - and he repeated the motion, leaning forward and pressing his sweat soaked torso against Grace’s now super-heated skin, his deep voice growling in her ear.

_“Sooo good baby… sooo fucking tight… GOD… yes!”_

Tom slowly withdrew so only the tip of his cock remained inside Grace’s pussy before pushing back in, the pace this time excruciatingly slow. So slow that Grace began to shake her head from side to side in near delirium as each time she approached her climax Tom would stop.

With each and every measured thrust from Tom eking out the most exquisitely tortuous pleasure within Grace, she tried to respond, rolling her hips in desperate need as they committed one another's naked bodies to memory afresh, updating their internal hard drives with the latest upgrades: Tom’s enhanced musculature; Grace’s wider hips; Tom’s longer, darker hair; Grace’s rounder arse and breasts.

They were the same. _Yet different_.

 _It was exciting_.

It was new.

 _It was scary_.

And yet it was somehow comfortingly familiar.

But above all else it was like coming home.

And as they eventually reached their peaks - Tom finally granting Grace not one, but two successive orgasms before he finally came, bucking his hips and pumping his seed deep into her still clutching pussy – resulting in them both screaming in ecstasy, a quiet calm finally fell over them.

They lay panting for breathe in their post-coital haze, Grace unconsciously rolling away from Tom’s body, only for his long arms to pull her tightly back against him into a spooning embrace.

“Oh no my darling Grace…” Tom purred “I’ve only just found you again. I’m not letting you get away from me that easily!”

And with a satisfied growl he nipped again at the bite mark at the base of her neck which was already beginning to bruise, before resting his chin there.

He then lifted his hand to her brow and smoothed out the furrows as he slowly stroked it with the pad of his thumb, before doing the same down the bridge of her nose in a soothing motion.

As Grace lay in Tom’s arms, remembering all the many nights she’d laid alone dreaming of feeling his touch again, and wondering if this was all just too good to be true, she listened as his breathing slowly calmed into a gentle snore.

She stared at the ornate Indian elephant decorations adorning the wooden desk beside her with tears in her eyes.

Though she hated to spoil her time with Tom she couldn’t help but to wonder how, _inevitably_ , they _were_ eventually going to have to address the real elephant in the room...

 

 


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the night before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV - Grace and Tom

 

When she woke the following morning to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm, Grace half expected it all to have been some crazy, wonderful dream. So when Tom’s large palm tightened around her breast – _just as it had done all those many summers ago back in the playhouse_ – Grace momentarily froze.

“You’re still here…” Tom’s deep voice, still gravelly from sleep whispered into the back of her neck before his lips trailed kisses down her shoulder blade. It was a statement rather than an accusation. An affirmation that she hadn’t run away again.

_Not this time…_

Grace shivered, feeling moisture already beginning to pool between her thighs.

No, for all her doubts and fears about the Pandora’s Box she’d opened by allowing Tom Hiddleston back into her life – _and possibly her heart_ – she hadn’t run.

Despite her simmering unease at how easy it had been - for them _both_ \- to just fall back into each other’s arms after close to ten years apart, she couldn’t deny how good it had felt.

Especially when Tom turned her over and reminded her just how good his arms felt as they held her to his naked and hard body, swiftly followed by a demonstration of how good his tongue felt, and lastly - _but by no means least_ – how good his cock could make her feel.

Again.

“I could stay like this forever” she sighed afterwards, stroking Tom’s raven locks as they splayed out across her still breathless chest.

“Then stay… baby. Stay with me.” Tom moaned in appreciation as the pads of her fingers ran through his hair and she began to massage his scalp.

But alas, all good things must always come to an end and Grace eventually had to make her awkward walk of shame back across to her own bungalow, praying that she wasn’t spotted by the rest of the wedding party.

Thankfully the courtyard was deserted, no doubt the other guests enjoying their own lie-ins after two solid days of partying.

Back in her bungalow, Grace took a long shower, reluctantly washing the scent and taste of Tom from her body while praying it would be replenished later.

She took extra care of her appearance that morning. After drying her hair, Grace pulled it up into a sleek ponytail, not immediately noticing the purple bruise on her neck where Tom had bitten her. It was only once dressed, as she’d twirled one final time in the mirror, that she’d seen it and frozen in panic.

_Shit!_

_She was going to kill Tom!_ He hadn’t even said a bloody word about it!

Pulling out her ponytail in frustration, Grace smoothed down her hair and tried to hide the mark. But it was no good. She knew it was going to be a long, hot, tiring day today. She needed her hair up.

Instead Grace pulled off the pretty sundress she’d intended on wearing and rooted through her clothes, finally finding a silk T-shirt with a higher neckline, teaming it with a long saree skirt and wrapping a lightweight scarf around her neck.

She was going to sweat her tits off today because of that infuriating man!

_Maybe she would make him lick them clean later…_

She snorted with laughter at her own depraved thought and with a wicked glint in her eye retied her hair.

They each separately joined the rest of the Hiddleston’s – _excluding the newly married couple of course_ \- for a late breakfast, and it was at this point that Grace truly realised just how much more honed Tom’s acting skills had become.

Whereas in the past his attraction to Grace seemed to have been blatantly obvious to the others, as they all sat on the veranda oohing and aahing over the success of the wedding and talking about their plans to visit [Mahabalipuram](http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/249/) after breakfast, Tom all but ignored her.

Grace, for her part, tried not to care. But she found herself growing more and more frustrated as Tom would, at best, give her a cursory glance when she spoke, but most of the time not even acknowledge her presence.

It was after one such moment - as Grace was telling the Hiddleston’s about a crazy drunken night in Slovenia when she had somehow ended up over the border in Italy without her passport, and Tom _again_ started to talk over her with his own story about filming a movie with Emma at some famous estate in Siena - that Grace _finally_ lost it.

Shoving her chair back loudly she stood, looking at the surprised expressions with a mixture of embarrassment and nausea, and shook her head.

“Please excuse me. I’m feeling a little bit sick”

And with that she marched off, wondering how she could have been sucked back into something - _anything_ \- with that insufferable man! His ego seemed to have grown exponentially with his bloody muscles, and it was becoming clear as day that all he seemed to care about was himself and his bloody career.

Well screw him!

_You’ve already done that though Grace!_

“Grace!”

She ignored the distant sound of Tom’s breathless voice and continued through the hotel’s fragrant grounds, her fists clenched with anger at her stupidity.

“Hey! Wait… _Grace!_ ”

The hand on her shoulder halted her for a millisecond before she shrugged it off and turned the corner into the courtyard where the bungalows were situated.

“Grace! Stop for God’s sake! I’m sorry, okay?!”   

Grace turned on her heels and marched back up to Tom, wagging her finger pointedly at him.

“Oh you’re always sorry _Thomas_ , aren’t you? Always _after_ the event! But it doesn’t bloody stop shit from happening, _does it?”_ she yelled cryptically.

Tom’s brow drew together into a deep frown as he tried to fathom what the hell Grace was talking about. Clearly her anger stemmed from much more than him rudely interrupting her story. _He’d_ thought he was being clever, not wanting to draw attention to the reigniting of their – _hmm_ \- re-acquaintance.

 _Clearly Grace had not picked up on that_.

“I didn’t want to give us away Grace! I guessed… _from experience_ …” Tom looked pointedly down at her “that you would _probably_ rather my family didn’t know. Look, I’m sorry if I offended you but… well, I figured if I ignored you, it would be easier to hide how obsessed I still am with you from them…” his voice trailed off, suddenly nervous, as if he’d perhaps revealed more than he’d intended to.

Grace’s mouth opened and closed in shock.

She had no idea what to even say to that. It had never occurred to Grace that Tom might have just been trying to protect her. The thought confused and scared her, though she could not quite pinpoint why.

“I… I’m sorry…” she eventually whispered, looking up into Tom’s sincere gaze with tears in her eyes “I probably need to start trusting people a little bit more. I guess I just assumed the worst.”

Grace sighed and bit hard into her trembling lip in an attempt to stop herself from breaking down in tears.

“Please don’t cry baby” Tom pulled her tense body into his arms and hugged her tightly, so tightly in fact that he almost squeezed all the air out of her body. Finally relaxing into his arms, Grace leant her head against his broad chest, openly sniffing him with a sudden sigh of contentment and a mumbled moan of “God you smell good!”

Tom pressed his lips gently to the top of her head and chuckled deep in his chest, causing Grace’s head to shake as he leant down to her ear and crooned “I’m sorry too darling. I should probably have at least warned you of my plan… ”

“Yeah… you should have!” Grace muttered, trying to sound chastening but not really pulling it off, much to Tom’s continued amusement.

However the pair were suddenly jolted apart from their tender embrace by the sound of James's voice behind them.

“Tom? Did you find her- _Oh_ _sorry!_ Was I interrupting something?”

Tom and Grace urgently pulled apart, Grace shuffling embarrassedly from foot to foot as she surreptitiously attempted to wipe at her wet eyes, while Tom ran his fingers nervously through his hair trying not to look his father directly in the eyes.

His dad _always_ knew when he was lying. It was a standing joke amongst all the Hiddleston’s that James was a walking polygraph. He would have to make this convincing…

For Grace’s sake.

“No… nothing dad. Just me apologising to Grace for being such a dickhead…” Tom slumped his shoulders, looking suitably contrite.

The stoic, straight-talking Scot studied his son’s eyes and pursed his lips, seemingly deep in thought, before nodding slowly.

“I should bloody well think so son… What happened to your manners over there in la-la land?”

“I… I…” Tom stuttered, knowing it would be easier just to take the fall on this one. “I think I just got a bit carried away. I am desperately sorry… and I did explain that to Grace, didn’t I?”

He turned to Grace, looking pleadingly at her.

Grace nodded mutely, amused that even as a grown man Tom’s father could make him nervous as a schoolboy when he wanted to.

“Tom was just giving me a hug because I got a bit upset, stupidly! I probably overreacted to be honest…” Grace’s cheeks blushed at her own part in things. But she hated lying to James, even though there was more than a hint of truth in her words.

“No Grace, Tom upset you, and you had every right to react. I’m just happy to see he apologised. But son? Don’t let it happen again. No-one likes a show-off and the more successful you become you’ll realise quickly how important _real_ friends are. Don’t lose sight of that…” James quirked his eyebrow pointedly at Tom and his son nodded, his own eyebrow rising in acknowledgement of the truth in his father’s words.

Grace couldn’t hold in a giggle at the likeness between the two men. Both turned to Grace questioningly, but it was James who spoke “And as for you Grace. Next time Tom’s an arse, bloody well tell him! It never _used_ to bother you and he needs us to keep his feet on the ground”

“Believe me dad, they are!” Tom muttered, rubbing his neck and looking suitably chastised.

The men left Grace to recompose herself, Tom casting a furtive glance back and a reassuring wink as he was escorted back to breakfast by his father.

_No doubt he would get another ear bashing from his mother and Emma._

But he didn’t care. _It was worth it_.

Grace returned to her bungalow and washed her face, taking a deep breath and trying to sort through her feelings.

Everything was moving so fast again, just like it had back in Edinburgh... And yet they _still_ hadn’t spoken about the past.

 _Who knew, maybe they shouldn’t?_ What happened, happened.

There was nothing she - _or Tom for that matter_ – could do about any of it now, was there? Why dredge it all back up? Neither one could change it. She’d spent far too long looking backwards. Maybe it was time to look forward instead?

With a huff and a shake of her head Grace cast the troublesome thoughts aside, repositioned her scarf and made her way back around to the veranda, where the rest of the Hiddleston’s were sat waiting.

“Sorry about all th-” she started but was halted by Diana’s hand.

“Grace, it’s all sorted. You have nothing to apologise for sweetheart. Tom’s apparently apologised and you’ve very graciously accepted. So everyone’s happy now, yes? There’s nothing more needs to be said other than let’s get going!”

Both Grace and Tom’s bodies seemed to sag with relief and the party made their way down the steps towards the hired minibus for their day trip.

They spent the rest of the day together with Diana, James, Emma and her boyfriend John visiting the majestic sights of Mahabalipuram. Tom took it upon himself to act as tour guide, describing in minute detail the intricacies of the [temples](http://www.ancient.eu/Mahabalipuram/) and [rock reliefs](http://tamilnadu-favtourism.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/descent-of-ganges-arjunas-penance.html) from his heavily annotated Lonely Planet guide book, much to everyone’s amusement.

However, as the day wore on, Grace became more and more hypnotised by Tom’s voice, her overheated body dripping as he rolled his lyrical tongue over the ancient Sanskrit pronunciations with surprising ease.

It was pure torture not to reach out and touch him, not kiss him, not to have him talk to her the way he had last night at the wedding. The elegant cadence of his voice during his erudite commentary was such a stark contrast to the pure, unadulterated filth that had passed through those same talented lips the night before that it left Grace a hot, dusty, frustrated - and _wet_ – mess by the end of the day.

The group returned late back to the house, having eaten while in Mahabalipuram. They were all tired, sweaty and dusty and each retired straight to their own bungalows for an early night.

Grace looked irritably over at Tom’s bungalow as she pushed open her own door, but he was so deep in conversation with his mother that she knew she stood no chance of attracting his attention.

However, a short time later, having paced back and forth for longer than she cared to admit as she’d waited anxiously for everyone else to be safely ensconced - _and having gratefully stripped down to nothing more than her thin robe_ \- Grace rang the number for Tom’s bungalow and invited him over.

Five minutes later there was a quiet knock at her door.

Grace padded silently over, her nerves suddenly jangling.

_What was she doing?_

She knew she was probably setting herself up for more heartache. They still hadn’t had _that_ conversation after all. Had she completely lost her mind?

But opening the door, only to find Tom leaning against the frame, casually sweeping an errant dark lock of hair back out of his scandalously blue eyes, and looking down at her as if he wanted to devour her, she knew for certain.

Yes.

She really _had_ lost her mind.

And if it meant she could just spend another night with this man she didn’t ever want it to find it again!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all still enjoying this. The next chapter will hopefully be up later tonight but then there might be a little wait i'm afraid <3


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace gets some room service...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DEFINITELY NSFW

“You called for room service…” Tom crooned, and Grace’s heart stuttered for the briefest second as the name he used to tease her with back in Edinburgh crossed his sinful lips.

_“…Mi’lady?”_

Her hesitation was only fleeting though. Tom licked his lips and winked, holding that devilish pink tongue just so it was peeking out between his maddening lips, as if to taunt her, before throwing his head back and chuckling.

“Ehehehe”

Grace let out a loud moan as she hastily checked behind him for any sign of spying eyes and grabbed his arm, dragging him inside wordlessly and pushing him up against the closed door, much to Tom’s shocked pleasure.

“Ooh baby!” he growled, gripping her shoulders as he leant down and attempted to nip at her neck. “What’s the matter? Is someone all hot and bothered after a day in the sun?!”

“Shut up!” Grace groaned “I mean it! Just… _shut_ … _up_ … with that maddening voice Thomas! Do you hear me? _Shut up!”_

Tom’s hands fell to her waist, pulling her hard against him.

“Now, now my dear Grace… that’s not very courteous, is it?” Tom purred against her ear, taking the time to trail his tongue down from her ear lobe to her neck, licking away the salty residue of her sweat. “It was, after all, _you_ who invited _me_ over here darling…”

“I said… _shut_ … _up!”_ Grace growled, taking advantage of his distracted mouth to grab his wandering hands from her waist and pin them by his side, up against the door.

“You and your fucking voice and that velvet tongue have put me through hell today!” she angrily protested.

Tom quirked an eyebrow and chuckled deeply.

He could have easily overpowered her but when he saw the angry glint in Grace’s eyes he was intrigued and abruptly stopped laughing, levelling his gaze with hers challengingly.

“Make me!” Tom growled, his cock stiffening as she pressed herself even harder against him, stretching up onto her tip toes and biting firmly into his neck, marking him just as he’d marked her the night before.

“ _Fuck!_ What the hell Grace?!” Tom gasped in shock, turning his head and dipping his chin to try to see what damage, _if any_ , she’d done to him.

 _“That’s_ for tormenting me!” Grace merely giggled, her anger immediately dissipating the moment she tasted Tom’s hot skin against her hungry lips.

Suddenly desperate to reacquaint herself with the rest of his body, Grace urgently tugged at Tom’s T shirt, pushing it up his lithe torso and urging it over his head.

Tom groaned but didn't resist, tossing it to one side. His eyes were hooded now as he watched her, waiting for her next move.

Grace started to trace Tom’s freckles with the tip of her tongue but it soon became apparent that if she continued to try and map out each and every single one, there would be little chance of either of them _ever_  getting any relief that night!

Tom meanwhile was beginning to breathe faster, watching in fascination as Grace tore her tongue away only to replace it with her small hands, splaying them across his muscular chest, caressing every inch of flesh before slowly stroking her fingers down to that tell-tale strip of soft hair just peeking out from under the waistband of his shorts.

Grace bit down hard on her bottom lip, her shaking fingers pulling impatiently at his zip.

Tom slowly licked his bottom lip in satisfaction at the moan Grace gasped out as she pulled his shorts down, only to find him hot and hard and completely naked. _Again._

"Oh fuck!" She moaned, licking her lips.

"I actually had _other_ plans for you..." her darkening blue eyes flickered up to meet Tom’s hooded stare, her pretty face frowning as she reconsidered her options.

But then she shrugged her shoulders and sunk to her knees, immediately circling the tip of his cock with the pointed tip of her wet tongue.

"Christ!" Tom groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as she began to worship his cock with her mouth. Sucking, kissing and licking him like he was the finest delicacy she had ever tasted.

But it was when her tongue languidly trailed the length of the thick vein on the underside - from his cock head down to the point at which base meets balls - and _still_ continued, opening her mouth wider and sucking one heavy testicle in between her drooling mouth that he thought he'd died and gone to heaven.

"Oh fuck... Grace! _Je-sus!"_ He gasped, his other testicle tightening automatically in response. As if psychic, she released the first testicle with a loud pop and moved to the other, circling it with her tongue as she simultaneously sucked it into her mouth. Tom unconsciously rose up onto his tip toes before grabbing hold of her head, and attempted to halt her.

"St... _Stop._.. _!”_ he barely managed to gasp “You're… _fuck!_ You’re gonna make me come… I… I want to fuck you so hard you'll be seeing stars!"

Grace moaned around his testicle – _again causing Tom to rock on his toes and let out another loud groan_ \- before abruptly releasing it.

Tom tugged gently at her hair again but Grace looked up at him, eyes wide and lips red and glossy with saliva as she shook her head fervently.

_"No!"_

Her voice was low - _commanding even -_ and Tom’s cock throbbed even harder in response.

Before he was able to even think about negotiating, her lips were stretched around his bulbous head once more and she was sucking him with renewed determination.

Realising he was at the point of no return Tom finally stopped fighting his desire and succumbed, giving himself over completely to her sensual mouth.

“Oh God… yes!” he grunted, desperately fighting the almost overwhelming urge to buck his hips hard and force his cock even deeper down her throat.

Somehow Grace had managed to get almost his entire length inside her mouth – _which was no mean feat in itself_ \- and he felt the soft flutter of her pharynx as it tightened around him, the exquisite sensation causing him to groan so deeply that he could feel the vibrations in his balls!

A strange thing happened then. The sudden realisation that Grace had to have learnt how to do _that_ with another man hit him like a punch in the gut - _and for a brief moment he was in serious danger of completely losing his boner_ \- but Tom quickly forced the thought away, knowing that he would be a complete and utter hypocrite to even go there, given the number of women _he’d_ slept with since Grace.

Instead he refocused his mind on the visual of Grace’s mouth stuffed full with his cock, and allowed himself to simply enjoy the experience for what it was.

Quite simply, the best fucking blow job anyone had _ever_ given him!

Grace flicked her eyes up in concern, questioningly meeting Tom’s as she felt him soften ever so slightly, instinctively pulling back so that her lips just grazed his tip again.

_Maybe he didn’t like what she was doing?!_

She’d only ever gone this deep with one other person and he’d not been nearly as big as Tom. Doubt began to engulf her mind and she hesitated taking him back so deeply, but when Tom gently raked his fingers through her hair – his eyes suddenly as black as his hair – and bucked cautiously, Grace moaned and relaxed her throat again.

Tom stared down through hooded eyes in awe as she took him even deeper, so deep that her nose grazed his pubic hair.

“Oh f…. _fuck!”_ Tom’s eyebrows shot up in rapturous surprise as he stared down into the widened eyes of his beautiful Grace, tears of concentration leaking down her cheeks, her pretty lips stretched wide and her nostrils flared as she swallowed his entire cock.

He was honestly in danger of coming from just that sight alone, but when Grace again swallowed around his tip, one small hand digging her short nails into his ass cheek while the other cupped and squeezed his balls rhythmically - alternating between the two - Tom could not hold back any longer.

 _“Fuck!_ _Yes!_ Oh God _… Fuck! Yes… baby!”_

Tom’s breathing was ragged as Grace swallowed the thick ropes of cum that his hips were pumping fiercely down her throat, throwing his head back and banging it hard against the wooden door.

But he didn’t care.

_Nothing else mattered at that moment!_

Tom gazed down in dazed and spent wonder.

Nothing at all mattered except the beautiful woman on her knees before him, still moaning around his spent cock and lapping lazily at the sensitive tip as she pulled her robe open and exposed her nakedness to him.

_Fuck!_

Grace shifted slightly, spreading her still knelt thighs, and thrust two of her fingers deep inside her own pulsing walls, fucking herself as Tom watched on helplessly – _still dazed from his own high_ \- as she finally released his cock from her dripping mouth and threw her own head back, urgently bringing herself off around her fingers.

Tom’s cock was already throbbing, beginning to harden again at such a wanton sight.

_Christ! He was still like a teenager around her!_

Tom was suddenly desperate to be inside her, even though he had only just come himself from the wickedness of her usually sweet mouth. The sight of her fingers, still pumping wildly as her come dripped down over her knuckles was simply too tempting to resist.

He urgently pulled Grace up onto her shaking legs, backing her up hard against the wall and bent his knees, pushing his revived erection into her as she continued to spasm around him, finding himself having to fight to stay inside her pulsating walls as the sheer force of her orgasm was unintentionally squeezing him out.

Tom tried desperately to be patient as her paroxysms slowly began to ebb away, allowing him to start to move again inside her, no longer meeting the same resistance. 

_Oh Jesus! She was soaked!_

And it was all because of sucking him off!

His head was swirling with that realisation as he continued to thrust, his nostrils flaring as he concentrated on fucking her into oblivion.

At some point Grace found herself being carried, once again shocked at Tom’s strength and stamina as she clung to him like a deranged monkey.

Tom was suddenly desperate to be as deep inside her cunt as he had been down her throat. He gripped Grace’s ass almost painfully as he carried her over towards the bed, still bouncing her hard on his stiff length.

He dropped her unceremoniously on the mattress, reluctantly slipping out of her slick heat, his own sigh mirroring Grace’s whimper of disappointment as she landed with a bounce. He rolled her over onto her tummy and tore away her flimsy open robe, leaving Grace completely nude as he positioned her on all fours. Grace’s round ass – _reddened from Tom’s punishing thrusts against the wall_ – pointed up invitingly at him and he growled impatiently.

He wanted _\- No! Needed_ – to be buried inside her again.

Tom hastily shucked out of the shorts still gathered around his ankles, trailing the tip of his leaking cock back up and down Grace’s dripping folds and combining their arousal in perverse fascination. He chuckled darkly when Grace’s voice, still hoarse from her earlier oral endeavours, groaned and rolled her hips hopefully.

“You want this baby?”

“Tom…” Grace croaked, all her senses in overdrive as Tom continued to torment her aching centre.

 _“Please…Thomas!”_ She whined, biting her lip and turning her head back towards Tom, hoping that, on seeing her desperate expression, he would have mercy on her.

But something had suddenly switched inside Tom.     

As he looked down through the fog of endorphins and arousal, Grace looked over her shoulder at him irritably, her cheeks tear-stained and ruddy with growing impatience. The sight abruptly transported him back to that Millennium Eve night nearly ten years ago when a crazed Grace had stared down at him with such disgust from the fence and cast a dagger so deep in his heart that he thought he might never recover.

And yet here they both were…

“Tom…?” Grace whispered again, this time a little unsure as she saw what looked like uncertainty, pain – _and was that anger?_ – flash across his handsome face.

“Shut up!”

The harshness in Tom’s voice made Grace jump and she gulped.

“Isn’t that what you told _me_  earlier Grace?” Tom growled, staring down at her, his eyes now blazing with a look of sheer contempt.

Christ! He was good at this role playing business, Grace thought, licking her lips and shuddering as she watched him grip his cock tighter and suddenly thrust hard.

“You think it was any easier for _me_ today?” Tom growled, one hand sliding underneath Grace to pinch a taut nipple and provoking a satisfying whine from her gasping lips.

 _“Do you?_ ” Tom grunted as he again thrust hard and moved his hand to her other nipple.

“I had to watch _you_ all fucking day, _desperate_ to fucking touch you while this arse tormented me!” he squeezed her ass cheek hard while rolling his hips, before leaning over Grace, still fully seated and hissing into her ear “so just stop fucking whining about it... _okay?!”_

Grace opened her mouth to voice her acquiescence but her words were lost in the wanton moans that followed as Tom suddenly started to thrust hard again.

_“Just…”_

Thrust.

_“Shut…”_

Thrust.

_“The…”_

Thrust.

_“Fuck…”_

Thrust.

_“Up…”_

Thrust.

_“Bitch!”_

Grace gasped in shock, her pussy clenching involuntarily at Tom’s degrading words. Her mind was racing as he continued to pummel her abused pussy, his heavy balls slapping against her swollen clit with each surge of his hips.

If she was upset, Grace didn’t show it, her mind switching off before she could process what had just happened as that familiar sensation began to flood throughout her entire body, signalling her imminent orgasm.

Tom continued to pound into her fiercely, growling and muttering all sorts of profanity as his fingers dug painfully into her hips. He felt himself approaching the same precipice, staring down into the abyss of the unknown as his hips stuttered, once, twice and a third time, one hand hastily releasing Grace’s hip to frantically pinch her aching pearl and pushing them both headlong over the edge as they fell even deeper into the void.

Tom’s roar was rasping as he fought to drag some much needed oxygen into his lungs, collapsing against Grace’s back and pushing her forward, in the process causing his spent cock to slip out of her.

Her body trembling as echoes of her orgasm continued to overwhelm her senses, Grace collapsed completely onto the bed, boneless, sated and yet confused as hell about what had just happened.

Tom leant over her prone body, still panting and supported only by his aching arms as he stared down at the back of her head, suddenly disgusted with his behaviour.

Tears formed in his eyes.

_He was so confused._

_And even more ashamed…_

When he’d decided to seduce Grace ‘for old time’s sake’ – _and to punish her for hurting him so badly all those years ago_ – he’d not really given any thought to what he would do if he found himself in the position he was now in.

He’d thought he could _do_ this. _Just fuck her and leave her_ …

Just as _she’d_ done to him…

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t _want_ to! He didn’t want to ever let her go again…

There was nothing she could do or say that would ever change his mind now.

They were meant to be together…

Grace groaned, interrupting his anguished internal dialogue and rolled over, looking shyly up into Tom’s teary eyes.

“Hey…” she whispered, gulping back her own tears.

“Hey…” Tom swallowed sadly, opening his mouth to apologise.

“I’m sorry about-”

“Shhh!” Grace cut him off, leaning up and kissing Tom tenderly on his lips before wriggling out from underneath him.

Tom collapsed onto the bed, sighing deeply into the covers before rolling over onto his back as he felt movement on the bed. Grace had climbed off and was stood over him, an enigmatic smile curling at her lips as she held her small hand out to him, taking Tom’s much larger one and coaxing him upright.

She led him to the bathroom, where her bathtub was already filled with water and the remnants of a pile of bubbles.

“I think we might need to refresh the hot water a little” Grace giggled but Tom trailed a finger through the water and shook his head before stepping inside, lowering himself into the still relatively warm water with a deep sigh of relaxation and beckoning her with the same finger.

“It’s perfect… Just like you baby.”

Grace no longer cared about anything other than being as close to this man for as long as they had together, and happily climbed in front of him, hissing momentarily as the water stung her raw pussy.

Tom straddled Grace’s back, his long lean limbs pressing against her from every angle as he cradled her back against his muscled chest.

She had never felt more protected, more safe and cared for than in that moment and a trickle of tears fell onto her cheeks at that realisation.

Tom picked up her bottle of shampoo and his lithe fingers began to massage her scalp in concentric circles, causing a shameless moan to slip through her parted lips as his hands deftly worked their way down until they reached her neck.

Neither one spoke of what had just transpired in the bedroom.

In all honesty, neither could, even if they’d wanted to.

There were far too many dangerous questions.

Questions that neither one dared to ask.

Questions that neither were sure they even had the answers to.

Instead they simply took the time to wash one another carefully, thoroughly and lovingly, before towelling off and slipping between the rumpled cotton sheets and allowing their aching muscles and exhausted minds to simply relax in the reassuring comfort of each other’s embrace as they drifted off into dreamland.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that satisfied a few itches this cold and frosty evening <3


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after Tom and Grace's intense night of passion. Grace gets some stuff off her chest....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV - Tom and Grace
> 
> NSFW
> 
> Trigger Warning for mention of miscarriage/death of baby.  
> Trigger Warning for allusion to possible abortion.

Tom woke long before Grace the following morning and looked down, watching her as she slept. Her soft hair splayed out over his arm and across the pillow, her dark eyelashes flickering occasionally as she dreamed. The tension lines she’d tried to hide from him in daylight softened away to almost nothing as he cradled her close to his chest.

And all the while he was scared to close his eyes again. Scared in case he woke and she was gone.

Scared in case she was just an apparition – _some kind of_ _will-o'-the-wisp_.

So he lay perfectly still, taking slow, even breaths as he counted each and every freckle on the bridge of her nose, traced the outline of her plush lips with his steady gaze and tried his best not to chuckle when she smacked her lips in a way akin to a fish.

And while he admired the beauty in his arms, he pondered.

What had started out as an admittedly cruel plan of revenge, to seduce her then leave her - just as _she’d_  done to him many years ago - had fast developed into something altogether more profound, and Tom was shocked at just how quickly he had already fallen back down that fucking rabbit hole!

It seemed that one bat of her eyelashes, one touch of their lips, one thrust of his cock inside her welcoming walls, and one pretty little moan from Grace’s lips was enough to send him reeling back in time to Edinburgh and his eighteen year old self!

But he wasn’t eighteen anymore and he needed to remember that…

_Was this for real?_

Was _she_  for real?

Or _was_ she just a fantasy?

Could she really have finally come back to him?

It all just seemed too good to be true.

Grace sighed dreamily and rolled away onto her back, smacking her lips together again and wrinkling her nose.

Tom was bewitched by every movement she made, awake or asleep and his fingers twitched, desperate to touch her, but still too scared to wake her in case she really was just a cruel figment of his imagination.

But eventually need overcame Tom’s fear. Specifically when she sighed again, this time stretching languorously like a cat, the thin sheet - which had already been precariously draped over her naked body – slipping down to reveal her dusky nipples, pert and inviting his attention as they puckered under the faint chill of the early morning air.

Tom groaned and trailed the tip of his index finger lightly over each taut bud, eliciting a low moan of pleasure from Grace’s parted lips.

Still asleep, she arched her back and sighed. Her hand – _which had, up to this point been motionlessly resting at her side_ – slipped under the covers and down towards the apex of her thighs.

Tom watched in rapt fascination as Grace seemed to seek out her pussy, caught in two mind between lifting the sheet to watch what she did, and waking her by doing it himself. But he restrained himself, and did neither.

Instead, he gazed heatedly down at the surface of the sheet as Grace’s small hand began to move, faster and faster, causing a ripple effect across the soft cotton like the motion of the sea.

The morning glory Tom had long since managed to subdue as he’d contemplated their complicated situation began to rise once more, and as he continued to watch - Grace’s lips now parted in gasps as her hips began to buck - he found himself gripping it, stroking urgently as she finally reached her peak, crying out his name.

That stopped him in his tracks.

Oh Christ! _She’d been dreaming of him?_

Some men might have been offended by their… - their _what?_ \- by a woman pleasuring herself alongside him in bed, especially after having made sure she’d been well and truly taken care of the night before.

But not Tom.

The realisation that Grace had been thinking of _him_ , even while asleep, and had been unable to stop herself from touching her pussy as a result…?

He was panting at the mere thought!

So, without further ado, Tom tore back the sheet, groaning as he saw Grace’s hand resting on her hip, the evidence of her arousal slicked down her parted thighs and limp fingers.

He climbed over her still sleeping – and now apparently sated - body, ensuring he wasn’t touching her as he stared down through lust filled eyes.

_God, she was so fucking beautiful!_

Tom resisted the urge to kiss her. He would do that later. Right now he wanted – no, he _needed_ – to wake her up in an altogether different way.

Leaning closer to her face, the heat of her still accelerated breathing tickled the fine stubble on his jaw. Tom steadied himself on one elbow as his other arm reached between his legs and guided his already leaking cock to her wet centre.

At first all she felt was a tickle.

Unsure whether she was still dreaming, Grace wriggled. But as the thick, blunt end of something hard – something _good_ – parted her folds, her eyes flew open.

The sight of Tom’s lusty gaze, so close to her face, greeted her and she gasped in shock.

“Morning sleepy head!” Tom whispered, his voice gruff and thick with desire as he slowly pushed into her narrow channel. Grace moaned in response, her hands flying to his back as she dug her nails into his muscular shoulders.

She would never get used to that first moment when Tom’s cock would penetrate her, stretching her wide, teetering just on the edge of discomfort.

_It was a discomfort that she was more than happy to teeter on though…_

Tom had _always_ been big, but she swore he felt even bigger now than she’d remembered. And even after last night's wild coupling, it was still a shock to her body just how thick his cock was. How it filled her. How it _stretched_ her.

Tom surged forward, reminding her of his presence and all other thoughts disappeared as he started to move.

If yesterday had been a masterclass in sheer unbridled animal passion, that morning was the opposite. Their movements were slow, sensual, deliberate and measured.

Designed to eke out each and every last morsel of pleasure from the other. 

Tom’s unhurried thrusts started to frustrate Grace and she found herself needing more. In a moment of forcefulness she pushed Tom off her and rolled over so that she was now on top.

Tom lay underneath her, looking up through those heavily lashed, blazing eyes, the blue almost invisible so wide were his pupils.

Taking hold of his cock - already wet with her juices - Grace stroked her entrance, never once taking her eyes off Tom’s heated gaze. She knelt up, still teasing her pussy with his stiff length, but bringing her breasts closer towards Tom’s face and looking down at him as she sucked two fingers on her other hand - _surprised to taste herself on them_ – and then circled one hard nipple with them.

Tom lay underneath, her rapt audience as she placed the same fingers back in her mouth and repeated the action with her other nipple.

“Fuck woman! You are going to be the death of me!” Tom growled, trying to buck his hips, _needing_ to be back inside her hot, silky walls.

“You want this?” Grace wiggled her hips and looked down between them, where her small hand was still clutching Tom’s thick cock at her now dripping pussy lips, teasing and tormenting them both.

“Fuck… yes!” Tom hissed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped in some much needed air. _Sometimes she actually made him forget to breathe!_

“Then watch…” Grace made sure that Tom’s eyes were staring at the point she wanted them to look at, and then she rocked back on her haunches and slowly bent down, taking Tom’s cock slowly inside her aching cunt in one movement.

Their combined moans left neither in any doubt of their pleasure, and when Tom’s hands slid up her thighs and gripped her ass - spreading her cheeks and lips wider – Grace threw her head back and started to grind her exposed clit against Tom’s pelvis on each downward stroke.

“Oh God…!” she gasped and Tom groaned, watching in awe as she wantonly sought out her own pleasure, using his body in the most primal pursuit of release he had ever witnessed.

“That’s my girl… _use me_ … take what you need from me. _Use my cock… Fuck yourself on it!”_ Tom’s voice, thick with desperate pride grunted as he coaxed her nearer and nearer to her release, his eyes now doing a dance up and down her sweat slicked body as he flicked between watching her bouncing tits and where she switched between rubbing herself against him and bouncing on his now almost purple cock.

“Ooo… Oh God… mmm… _So good_ … _!_ So… _Oh_ …”

“ _Yes!_ That’s right… Fuck yourself on me baby! Fuck yourself as hard as you can!” Tom bared his teeth and looked at Grace with an almost feral look of determination, before every muscle in his body seemed to tense all at once in response to her clutching pussy.

"Oh Jesus! _Come!_ Come all over my cock baby... do it... _do it!"_  Tom suddenly roared and exploded inside her throbbing walls.

Grace bit down hard on her lip, trying not to scream as she came just as hard, tipping forward towards a heavily panting Tom.

Tom swiped her lip from her mouth with his tongue as he slowly, languorously, continued to buck up into her, drawing out both their pleasure, and swallowing her moans.

Grace finally collapsed in an exhausted heap on top of Tom, her pupils still blown wide in ecstasy.

“That…” She gasped, fighting for breathe “that… was… that was perfect!”

“Just… uh… just like you then baby…” Tom panted, winking at her. And he wasn’t lying. She _was_ perfect.

_Perfect for him._

Grace nuzzled the sparse hairs on Tom’s chest and sighed blissfully.

She hadn’t felt this content for a very long time.

And yet, _in the deepest recesses of her mind_ , she could already feel the spectres of fear and doubt starting to creep back out of their hiding place, the knowledge that Tom would be leaving tomorrow, back to LA, back to his real life, while she would remain here, finishing up the last month of her research before heading back to the UK and - _hopefully_ – embarking on her teacher training. 

That realisation made her shiver uncomfortably. They still hadn’t spoken of the past. Nor, for that matter, had they spoken of the future.

In fact, Grace suddenly realised, _they’d done very little talking at all…_

With a sudden looming sense of dread she knew they were going to have to. And soon.

Tom, however, seemed in no hurry to even think about words as he slowly rolled her over and kissed her unhurriedly, before pulling her up and into the bathroom where he started the shower.

Stepping inside, Tom encouraged Grace to join him. They took turns to wash each other but it was as Tom’s hands started to massage Grace that the memory of their time in Edinburgh somehow came crashing back to her and she felt a huge knot tighten in her belly.

“You’re so tense baby” Tom frowned, his big hands smoothing the body wash over the tight muscles in Grace’s shoulders, kneading and massaging the knots away as her back leant against his solid frame.

Grace bit her lip, caught on the precipice, debating whether to tell Tom all the things she was fretting over.

Instead something altogether more unexpected fell from her lips.

“Did you know I had a sister?”

Tom’s hand froze on Grace’s abdomen, and he gulped.

 _“What?_ I always thought you were an only-”

“After my parents funeral I was called into the probate solicitor’s office…” Grace cut Tom off, her voice soft, yet almost robotic “I didn’t want anything to do with them. I didn’t want anything _from_ them Tom! We hadn’t spoken in years…” she paused, sighing “But your dad came with me. Said I should see what the man wanted. They’d left everything to me. The house in Oxford, some apartment in Las Vegas – _Don’t even ask me what the fuck they used that for?!_ – and a key to a safety deposit box…”

“Vegas? Well, it’d be central for Death Valley, The Grand Canyon… Yosemite… and not too far for California, wouldn’t it? They were geologists remember?” Tom mused, momentarily distracted as he mulled over this revelation “Then there’s the San Andreas Fault too I guess…”

Grace sighed, feeling the anger starting to bubble up inside her belly as she fought to ignore Tom’s incessant need to understand, to rationalise everything.

“I don’t care _why_ they had it Tom. I couldn’t give a flying fuck!”

“Right… sorry…” he mumbled “Go on.”

“So yeah. I arranged for the apartment to be sold. I couldn’t even face going to it, a local realtor sorted everything for me. I told them to just bin or sell the contents. Do whatever they wanted with it all. I had no doubt there’d be nothing of any interest to me…”

“Oh baby…” Tom felt Grace’s breath stutter under his fingers as she blindly continued on.

“I considered selling the house. I _wanted_ to. It was _their_ house, never _really_ my home – even though I probably actually spent more time in it than they _ever_ did. But _your_ house was always really home to me in Oxford…”

Tom squeezed her tighter, and bent his head to kiss her wet ear.

“So why didn’t you?” he murmured “Sell it, I mean…”

“For all the _bad_ memories, it was also the place I met Sarah, and Emma, your parents… _and you”_ Grace smiled then as she felt Tom’s lips turn up into his own grin against her earlobe.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else in it. Anyone else in my tree, anyone cutting down my tree…!” Grace’s bottom lip trembled at the mere thought and Tom was finally able to turn her in his arms and hold her to his chest. He stroked her wet hair away from her eyes as she fought back the tears, all the while soothing her with his gentle words.

“Oh Grace! Baby! Sshhh. It’s okay… It’s okay baby…”

“No… It isn’t Tom!” she finally recovered, looking up at him through watery eyes “I’ve always felt like the odd one out in my family. Like I didn’t belong. Like something was missing… And that… that safety deposit box? It… It made me understand why…”

Tom’s chest was pounding now as he looked down at the top of Grace’s head, her face buried against his chest as she fought through so many pent up emotions. He felt so useless.

What the hell had happened? Did her parents have another secret family or something? It would explain why they were never with Grace in Oxford. Tom’s fists began to clench at the thought. If they _did_ he was glad they were dead because if they’d still been alive he’d have hunted them down and killed the fuckers himself for all the pain they’d put Grace through over the years!

Wrestling away that angry thought, Tom tried to compose himself as he listened.

This was Grace’s anger and pain to share.

_Not his to blindly react to._

“What was in it?”

Grace sighed.

“There were some legal documents. Bank details. House deeds and stuff like that. Nothing very interesting…” Grace’s voice trailed off as she took another deep stuttering breath before continuing “And then there were a couple of old baby scan photos, two birth certificates… _and one death certificate_.”

Tom gasped.

“I… I had a sister… _A twin_ … she died and I lived…”

“Oh God! Grace, darling. I’m so sorry…” Tom’s head was reeling. He didn’t know what to do. What to say.

What _could_ he say?

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how her parents must have coped with such a traumatic event. He couldn’t possibly understand how lost Grace must feel, even now, knowing she’d been missing a part of herself all these years. _A twin sister._ Would they have been identical?

How does _anyone_ navigate such a bittersweet experience as mourning death and celebrating life at the same time?

Tom wondered if that might be why her parents had fled. Had the sight of one daughter without the other been too much to bear? Not that it would ever make what they put her through okay of course!

_Secrets and lies._

Nothing good ever came from either...

“So… So… even _after_ their death they managed to fuck with my head!” Grace’s emotional voice cut through Tom’s thoughts once more as she pulled away and turned to switch off the shower.

She needed to get out.

She needed to get away.

_She needed…_

“Grace…” Tom whispered soothingly, trying to pull her back into a hug, his hands sliding down over her abdomen and unconsciously stroking her scar.

“Baby… This is why people should never have secrets. It just makes the truth even harder. More painful, y’know…? But you have my word. I would _never_ lie to you sweetheart. I hope you realise that? I… I love you!”

The heavy burden in Tom’s chest suddenly vanished as he said the words he’d been trying to hold back until he was certain.

He _needed_ to be certain this time. _This time it had to be right._

This time it _was_ right.

This time he _was_ certain.

He knew that now.

Grace’s stomach sank as Tom tried to sooth her, saying the very words she’d been fearing and hoping for in equal measures.

_Why did those three little words have to make her heart ache even harder?_

They just made her feel even worse, guiltier, and consequently even more resolute in what she had to do next.

There was no way Tom would still want her once he knew just how much she had lied about.

How much of a failure she was…

There was only one thing for it.

Pull off the fucking Band-Aid once again Grace.

_You did it once before. You can do it again…_

Shakily wrapping the towel around her body and deliberately not looking at Tom, she began to speak.

"I honestly think you're just in love with the _idea_ of being in love Tom. How can you know you love me _now?_ We’ve only been near each other for three days in ten years! _Ten fucking years Tom!_ I don't know. Maybe you still love the old me... The _young_ me? But I'm not that person anymore. Too much has happened to me. To you. _To us..."_

“Stop it!” Tom growled, grabbing his own towel as he stalked after Grace, who was making her way back into the bedroom as if she hadn’t just verbally ripped his fucking heart out! Again!

“Just fucking stop it Grace! Why are you suddenly doing this? Stop making excuses…” he reached out to stop her and she shrugged his hand away.

“Excuses?” Grace turned to face him and rolled her eyes, and Tom tensed his jaw. In his blind passion he’d forgotten how sarcastic she could get when she was angry.

What he didn’t understand though, was _why_ she was suddenly so angry?

_What was so wrong about telling someone you loved them?_

“I know okay!” Grace sighed, sensing Tom’s frustration “I know how it sounds! And I know I’m being a bitch...”

Tom flinched at that particular choice of word after his less than chivalrous behaviour the previous night, but if Grace noticed she didn’t react.

“I just… I can’t help it Tom. I’m pissed off. _All the time._ So much I can’t even breathe sometimes. But don’t you see? That’s why you and I wouldn’t work! We didn’t back then and we sure as hell can’t now! Too much has happened…”

Grace shook her head sadly, clinging tightly to her towel and staring down so intently at her feet that it was almost as if she’d never seen toes before.

“There are just too many memories that piss me off to this day and I can’t seem to erase them. I’m still so pissed off with _all_ of them! But you can’t be pissed off at things that are done. Things that have happened… You can’t change them, can you? And you can’t be pissed off at an innocent baby that was never _planned_ , especially when it was never even going to make it… _Can you?”_ Grace suddenly screamed “You can’t be pissed off at a baby that you had _no idea_ your own stupid body was even growing… Well… unless you’re my fucking mother of course! _Right?_ She had that down to a fine fucking art!”

Grace rubbed the tears from her cheeks in obvious anguish.

“Oh God. I couldn’t bear the thought of another kid having to go through what I went through as a child… maybe it actually _was_ for the best…”

Tom’s eyes widened in confusion and his face paled as Grace continued on oblivious, her face a picture of turmoil and uncertainty before she again shook her head as she seemed to remember her point.

“But anyway, you _certainly_ can’t be pissed at a baby that would have ruined someone else’s life as well… We weren’t right for each other then, and we’re _certainly_ not right for each other now. I realise that now. We live in completely different worlds. So there is no one _else_ to be pissed off with, okay? Except you. And I _can’t_ be pissed off with you… because just look at you! _You’re fucking perfect!_ So that just leaves _me_. And ‘us’ together, well we’re _‘us’_ , you’re fucking perfect and I’m… well. _Look at me!_ I’m just nothing but a fucking mess! The lesser half of a pair of twins. The black sheep of the family. You and I are polar opposites Tom! You’re so happy, so positive. Whereas me… Don’t you see it? _‘Us’_ is just never destined to work... _Is it?”_

Despite the muddled, contradictory words, Grace’s final question was still tentative, almost probing.

Though she would _never_ admit it - _and despite all she had just said_ \- there _was_ part of her desperately wanting Tom to fight for her. To tell her yes.

That yes! They could indeed - and _would -_ be able to work things out together. Because _he_ loved _her,_ and after so many years of denial Grace suddenly faced the realisation that _she_ loved Tom just as much.

Possibly even more…

But as her teary eyes slowly rose from staring down at her fidgeting fingers to meet Tom’s, she found no proclamation forming on his thin lips, no flicker of romantic argument being formulated behind those azure blue eyes.

Instead she found him staring at her, his mouth hanging open and his usually calm eyes sparkling with anything but love.

Tom’s open jaw clenched shut in obvious anger and as Grace nervously observed, the muscle twitched as he seemed to carefully choose his words.

“What did you just say?” he hissed.

“Tom… I don’t know. I’m sorry. Maybe I was wrong to think that we should stop this… _Us_. I just don’t know anymore. I’m so confused… But it just seems that we always end up hurt-”

 _“Shut up..!”_ he shouted, his voice rising to a volume that she’d never been in the presence of before, and she shuddered at the menace dripping from his tongue as he grabbed her hard, his fingers digging painfully into her bare arms as he violently shook her.

“Just stop blabbering for one bloody minute, will you? You _said_ …” Tom’s voice dropped back down, almost to a whisper “you said… _baby_ …Grace, what the fuck are you talking about? _What baby?_ ”

Grace watched as a million and one emotions flickered in Tom’s eyes. Anger, shock, pain, loss, confusion, and finally hatred.

And that was when realisation dawned on her.

She’d almost let her most humiliating secret slip…

She _couldn’t_ tell him.

_She couldn’t admit to being a failure at something as huge as this!_

Even when they were young Tom had always been adamant that he wanted lots of kids. He’d said he’d wanted a big family just like the one he’d grown up in. She doubted she could ever give him that now.

_She doubted now she could even carry one child to term._

Her shoulders slumped at that realisation.

And all the while that Grace was tormenting herself with this reality, Tom was staring down at her, growing more and more angry as she refused to even look him in the eye.

_What the fuck was going on?_

Tom gritted his teeth trying to tamp down the fierce rage surging up inside him as he tried to make sense of what Grace had said. Had _she_ been pregnant? _When?!_ Where was the baby?

No. She must have been talking about her sister…

_But she’d said something about her own body…_

No! Surely she would never have kept something _this_ big from him?

Had she… _Oh God! Had she..?_

“Did… Did you _do_ something Grace?” Tom’s chest was pounding as he suddenly released her, instead gripping the towel hung around his waist tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried not to think the worst.

“ _Do…?_ Did… Did I do _what…?”_ Grace choked out another sob as she rambled on oblivious. So many emotions, so many self-recriminations flooding out of her mouth now that she barely even registered Tom’s presence or what she was even saying anymore. “I… it was all so soon after he-. It was all so close together… I… I didn’t know… I didn’t… I couldn’t hurt…”

As soon as Tom heard Grace say the word ‘ _he’_ , his skin bristled and the red mist descended.

_"Was it even mine?"_

Tom regretted the words even before the stinging slap landed across his razor sharp cheekbones.

“You… You fucking bastard!” Grace screamed, her palm stinging as she watched Tom’s cheek immediately redden with the outline of her small handprint.

The pair stood for what felt like a minute but which was probably much less, in total silence, and more than a little shock, simply staring at one another and then, before Grace could even open her mouth to…

_To what?_

Apologise?

Try to sit Tom down and explain everything _properly?_

Or to just lie again?

Tom was gone, storming out of her bungalow.

And no doubt out of her life.

Again.

_And Grace let him._

Tears streamed down her cheeks at the realisation that it was now well and truly over.

For, however much she’d always denied they could ever have a future, there had always been that tiny flicker of blind hope in her heart.

With Tom’s cruel words and her reactionary slap their fate had finally been sealed.

No more Tom and Grace.

Not now.

_Not ever._

And then the laughter came. It was maniacal, and intermingled with sobs as Grace slowly picked up Tom’s discarded clothes, the memory of her undressing him last night coming back to her like another dagger in the heart.

How had things changed so fast between them?

 _You!_ She thought. _It’s always you Grace! You ruin everything!_

And yet, bizarrely the laughter prevailed as the ridiculousness of Tom’s exit unexpectedly overwhelmed her. She suddenly realised that Tom had still been in his towel!

_The towel that barely even covered the essentials!_

Grace walked, trancelike, to the door and opened it, stepping outside the bungalow into the fierce humidity only for it to occur to her that she too was only covered by a flimsy towel. Her hands dropped the pile of clothes where she stood and she rushed back inside, but before she closed the door she caught a glimpse of Tom, still stood across the courtyard, mouth agape once more, staring down at his shaking hands in a daze.

Unable to bring herself to call out to him, Grace closed the door, tears blinding her as she stumbled inside and sank to her knees.

_This had to stop. They were always hurting each other…_

_Enough was enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. i know you all probably want to kill me, and by extension Tom and Grace, now, but take a deep breath. There will be another chapter up soon (You might have noticed the chapter total has increased - I split this chapter into two parts as it seemed better that way).
> 
> Love you all <3


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is everything really lost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace POV
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my [fellow 'Finn' fan Madametango](http://archiveofourown.org/users/madametango/profile)  

Grace had no idea how long she lay there, her feverish skin becoming chilled against the cool marble of the floor as she fell into a confused, exhausted sleep, haunted by anger, yearning and regret.

When she finally came around she was cold and shivering. She groaned as she achingly pulled herself back upright. Her legs shaking, Grace moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the evidence of her and Tom’s assignation still clear to see. Her heart clenched as she smelt his scent in the air, heard his laughter and groans of pleasure in her mind and she shook her head with renewed determination.

This was stupid!

Was she _really_ willing to sabotage what they had reignited after so many years parted from one another, simply because she couldn’t talk to him?

_No!_

She hadn’t gone through so much pain and heartbreak nearly ten years ago just to let their chance at happiness drift away again.

Taking a shivering breath she pulled herself upright, tightening the towel back around her body and went into the bathroom to fix her face.

She had to see him.

_She had to make this right…_

The sight which greeted her was not a pretty one and it made her gasp. Stains from her tears trailed down her pale, yet blotchy cheeks and her red rimmed eyes were puffy, while her hair was a damp, tangled mess.

If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right!

She needed a plan. It would do no good to go to Tom’s room all guns blazing again. They would either end up in another fight - _or perhaps worse_ \- in bed.

She had to talk to him calmly. Explain what had happened from the very start.

Ask _him_ what had happened. She knew that she’d avoided _his_ calls once she’d been discharged from hospital. She did not know why his calls before then had been so sporadic.

She reminded herself that Tom wasn’t completely innocent in all this. He owed her _that_ explanation surely at the very least?

With a determined air she took a deep cleansing breathe, drew a warm bath, turned on her iPod and let the contemplative [lyrics](https://youtu.be/OeYEyCDRHmE?t=6s) wash over her as she soaked away the chill both in her body and her heart.

The song resonated with Grace and it only reaffirmed her plan. She and Tom had been through _so_ much together – through _every_ emotion - even when they had been apart. And today? She’d literally felt all four seasons inside her heart.

She _had_ to go back to him. She owed it to them _both_ to come clean, to explain what had happened all those years ago. Especially if there was ever going to be a chance of them making this work…

Because whatever _this_ was – or at least _had_ been until she’d opened her stupid mouth – _had_ to be worth fighting for, surely?

A little while later, dried and dressed in a simple blue sundress, her hair straightened, Grace suddenly felt optimistic about their chances. Everything was, _or soon would be_ , completely out in the open.

Tom’s response had just been a terrible misunderstanding… One of the things she’d realised while she’d laid in the bath was that Tom _still_ didn’t know she’d been a virgin when they’d first slept together. However much his doubt had hurt her, it had been a valid question!

With a determined sigh she reminded herself of that and all the other lies she’d inadvertently told. She needed to be completely straight with him if this was ever going to work.

She could only hope he would be as open to hearing what she had to say.

Opening her door to a sudden gust of hot air, she wasn’t surprised to note that Tom’s clothes were gone. No doubt he’d made the walk of shame back over once he’d dressed. He wouldn’t have wanted his family to have discovered his clothes outside her bungalow. That was for sure!

While maybe not _agreeing_ with it, Tom had always respected her wish for discretion.

Grace wondered if that would really be necessary any more once they finally spoke, and the thought of no more lies put a spring in her step as she made her way slowly over towards Tom’s bungalow. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, not at all helped by the midday sun and its accompanying humidity.

She glanced around, hoping she wasn’t being watched. While she had finally realised she wanted to come clean, she _still_ wanted it to be on her _\- and Tom’s_ \- terms. She’d already settled on a cover story should anyone see her, but lies were already eating away at her and she hoped not to have to tell any more for the time being.

She held a book of poetry in one hand - _the cover story_ \- and used her free hand to tap gently on the door, standing back and waiting.

When there was no answer, she tried again, this time a little louder.

Still there was no answer.

Of course, she wouldn’t put it past Tom to be watching her through the spy hole so she stood close to the door and listened for any sound inside the bungalow.

All she heard was the chirping of the birds in the deserted courtyard.

Sighing to herself, Grace wondered if Tom had decided to go out somewhere, or if he was just plain ignoring her.

Either way, she would not be swayed now. She would wait. He had to return – or come out – eventually, and when he did she would be waiting for him.

She sat down on the little bench in the middle of the courtyard, attempting to read her book, the thick humidity doing nothing to make the task any easier as the sweat from her brow started to pour down her face, stinging her eyes.

After more than two hours her head was throbbing and she could barely see. With a deep sigh of resignation she reluctantly stood, stretching out the crick in her back and making her way unsteadily over towards her own bungalow.

As she reached her door, Emma’s bungalow door opened and her boyfriend, John stepped out, automatically waving to Grace before stopping in his tracks and frowning.

“What?” Grace mumbled, frowning back self-consciously.

“Erm… Did you fall asleep or something?”

“Eh? No… why?” Grace rolled her eyes and held up the book in her shaking hand. It suddenly occurred to Grace that John might know where Tom was!

“I was just sat waiting to give this to Tom and got carried away reading it…” Grace offered, still puzzled by John’s concerned face.

“You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Tom’s gone, didn’t you hear?”

Grace gulped, attempting - _but no doubt failing miserably_ \- to hide her dismay.

_Gone?_

Tom had left…

And left _her_.

 _He’s run away like a thief in the night_ , she thought bitterly.

Just like _she’d_ run away from _him_ all those many years ago…

Well that was it then… It truly _was_ over!

_Again._

Flashbacks of Tom’s aggressive attitude, the derogatory way in which he’d spoken to her, not once but _twice_ now in the heat of the moment. His sarcasm when he’d first arrived… Had it all just been an elaborate plan? Was he _really_ that despicable? Did she really mean _nothing_ to him?

It all began to fall into place. At least it did in Grace’s feverish, sun addled mind.

As far as Grace was concerned, he’d used her. She was disgusted with him. But worse. She was disgusted with herself.

Stupid, _stupid_ woman!

As that realisation slammed into her like a freight train, Grace’s book fell to the floor, swiftly followed by her own miserable body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... NOW you can all kill me... ;)
> 
> But... just remember if you do I can't finish it... <3
> 
> Psst. Every cloud has a silver lining... At least 2016 Tom kept the beard and hair for the Evening Standard Theatre Awards! ;)


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter taking us from the event's immediately after Tom left Grace in India, up to 2016...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom POV

 

 

In the months which followed Sarah’s wedding Tom couldn’t even bring himself to think about what had happened between himself and Grace. It was far, _far_ too painful. Instead he focused all his anger, frustration and confusion into his character….

But as he finally wrapped on Thor, he found himself on a flight back to the UK, with hours ahead of him to do nothing _but_ think.

He went over and over the events right before he’d left India in his exhausted mind, trying to work out how it had all gone so spectacularly wrong so quickly… again…

*

_When Tom had stormed out of Grace’s room he’d done so to calm down. He’d known he was on the brink of saying something he would no doubt regret. He’d needed clarity. He’d needed answers._

_But first he’d known he needed to calm the fuck down._

_In less than twenty minutes the day he’d planned had already gone from romantic cuddles and talk of a possible future together, to what-the-actual-fuck?_

_Grace had a sister?_

_Grace had had a baby? Or Grace had at least been pregnant?_

_When he’d tried to make sense of the garbled word vomit spewing from her lips he’d asked – what he’d thought at the time to be – the logical question…_

_The woman had been making no sense whatsoever up until that point! He’d needed to get his facts straight before he…_

_Before he what? Shouted? Hugged her? Mourned? What??_

_The second the words had left his lips he’d realised his mistake._

_The stinging slap to his face had attested to that fact._

_He’d never been hit by a woman before._

_Hell. He’d never even been truly hit by a man before, providing you discounted Hemsworth and his inadvertent elbow wallop to the nose._

_So he’d left. Returned to his room, still clad in just that flimsy towel around his waist, only to find that a barrage of messages awaited him._

_Marvel had needed him back in America._

**_Immediately._ **

_Worse still, the messages had been dated from the evening before, starting at 10:42pm and continuing right through the night._

_Fuck!_

_He’d missed each and every one of them, not even thinking to take his mobile phone to Grace’s room! It wasn’t like he’d been expecting to use the damn thing…_

_He’d been far too preoccupied with Grace for that._

_Tom’s head had been a mess as he’d immediately called first Luke, and then Ken back whilst hastily gathering up his things, thankful that he always packed light, but less than thankful that he’d had to pack at all._

_He’d still had so many questions for Grace._

_So many questions he definitely still needed answers to._

_But she’d been so fucking mad at him!_

_And though he’d hated to admit it, he’d been so fucking mad at her._

_And himself._

_Why had he insisted on picking at the wound in the first place?_

_Maybe he should never have started anything up with Grace again._

_But she’d definitely said baby…_

_Hadn’t she?_

_Who’s baby?_

_And when had this happened?_

_Had this happened before they’d met?_

_Or… was it his baby? Or was it that bloke’s she’d been seeing before him?_

_Or, was this something else altogether and he’d completely and utterly got the wrong end of the stick? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time…_

_And where was this baby now? Had she put him or her up for adoption?_

_Did he have a son or daughter somewhere?_

_Oh God! Had she lost it? Or… or… No!_

_She wouldn’t have… would she?_

_Oh fuck!_

_So many questions._

_Too many questions and no fucking answers!_

_He’d had less than half an hour to pack before the car had been due to pick him up for the airport, but after hastily zipping up his suitcase Tom’s head had still been reeling._

_He’d known he couldn’t just leave it like this._

_Not knowing would drive him mad! He knew he’d have to speak to Grace._

_But he’d also known that he’d have to at least explain to his family that he was leaving too._

_So many things to do. So bloody little time to do it all in!_

_Glancing down at his watch, Tom had frantically looked around for something to write his number on. Grace and he hadn’t even got that far – there had been no need as they’d been across the courtyard from one another and connected by the hotel’s telephone system, and mere yards - but he’d be damned if he was going to leave India without at least making sure he gave her a way to contact him! He hastily scribbled down his mobile number on a flimsy scrap of tissue paper that his suit had been wrapped in._

_Tom had taken one last look around his room, satisfied that he had everything and had grabbed his suitcase, wheeling it across the courtyard. He had found his clothes outside Grace’s door and had sighed._

_Yeah. She was clearly still pissed._

_He’d knocked softly on the door and waited._

_There had been no answer._

_In all honesty he’d expected as much. But it had still hurt._

_He’d knocked again, louder this time but still nothing._

_Reluctantly he had slipped his number under the door, saying a silent prayer that she wouldn’t just throw it in the bin._

_And then, he’d dejectedly made his way over to his mum’s bungalow. When there was no answer there either, Tom’s heart had rallied, heading to the terrace with the hope that maybe he’d find Grace up there with his mother and sister, because - while it would have obviously not been conducive to talking about Grace’s revelation - he at least would have had the chance to see her before he left._

_Alas, only his mother and Emma had sat in the shaded loungers._

_They had shared an emotional farewell with a request to pass on his regards to everyone else._

_He hadn’t mentioned Grace. How could he after what had just happened?_

_And then Tom had left._

_Back to America._

_Back to filming._

_Back to being alone…_

_Back to a life without Grace?_

*

And here he was, seven months later and not even a fucking text message!

Could he have done more to make contact?

_Probably._

Should he have done more?

_Possibly._

But the fact still remained that Grace had _his_ number and hadn’t bothered. Why should he always have to be the one to fight for them?

_Why couldn’t it be Grace for once?_

She clearly didn’t think enough of him to talk to him. About _anything_ it seemed.

No. He knew he had to face facts.

It was over. He’d survived this before. He would survive it again.

The words felt hollow even as he repeated them.

But they became his mantra in the months that followed.

The day he’d received the call from Spielberg had been perhaps one of the most bittersweet moments of his entire career. Elated that his lifelong dream was finally coming true, his first thought was to share it with Grace as their prophesying conversations came flashing back to him.

But he hadn’t spoken to her in so long. He didn’t even know where she was. Had no way of contacting her…  

And he knew by now that she clearly had no interest in contacting him…

Before he knew it, he’d been swept up in the whirlwind promotion of _Thor._ That had certainly kept him busy, and being busy helped a little to take his mind off the questions which haunted him. Yet it still wasn’t enough. In need of something, _anything_ to distract him from his heartache Tom rekindled his relationship with Susannah, but a year and a half later they finally called time, both knowing there was no future together.

Tom sank all his energy into work, garnering critical acclaim for his performances and to the outside world everything looked rosy.

But behind closed doors the mask fell as his heart ached and his anger began to fester. It was only when he shared the occasional drunken heart to heart with Luke did he even say her name aloud.

There was simply no longer any need otherwise. On the fleeting visits home she wasn’t there, having seemingly ceased to exist from the Hiddleston’s world once more. For the most part neither was Sarah, having settled down in India with her husband and not long after, a baby. So, in spite of how close Grace had been to the whole family in her formative years, her name simply no longer came up.

Everybody _seemed_ to have moved on.

They were no longer children.

They were all grown adults now. With their own lives and bigger responsibilities than keeping tabs on one another.

It was therefore like a melancholic echo from his past that night a little over two years after Sarah’s wedding. Tom had been sat in a cinema, watching ‘[Buck](https://twitter.com/twhiddleston/status/162893872085733376)’ when the haunting baritone of [Eddie Vedder](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuq7RYQ8Wa0) played through the speakers. The voice of Grace’s teenage crush had been like a blast from the past. He'd found himself weeping silent tears, not only for the moving documentary but also for what could – or perhaps _should_ \- have been.

Tom quickly tried to shuck those thoughts aside. Instead he’d tried his best to live by Buck Brannaman’s philosophy for a while, a particular moment resonating with Tom as he’d talked of his abusive childhood and the need to let painful memories go: ‘ _I like to live in the moment. If you worry about yesterday, or last week or twenty years ago it’s not gonna work out too good for you. You can’t live in two places at once…You never forget, but you don’t have to keep living in the past._ ’ While he knew his own memories were inconsequential in comparison, it did give him a bit of a kick up the arse and he tried his best to enjoy each day, _finally_ reaping the benefits of such a long apprenticeship in the acting profession.

It was some three and a half years after that moment in the cinema that Tom discovered just how close Grace was living to him once more. Apparently Grace had returned to the UK sometime after Sarah’s wedding and about a year ago his mother learnt from a mutual family friend down in London of her return. Diana had met up with Grace and they’d rekindled their friendship, whilst keeping a respectable distance.

His heart broke for whatever she’d been through, yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself from harbouring an intense anger that Grace had never even given him a chance to be there for her.

That she’d never _trusted_ him enough with the truth…

He’d always promised her she could count on him. But how could he help someone he didn’t know was hurting?

The more he considered this, the more he came to the logical – at least in _his_ head - conclusion that the baby – _if indeed there **had** been a baby. He still couldn’t be certain_ \- couldn’t have been his. Yet his gut told him something else altogether.

_It was all just so fucked up!_

He grew to resent her even more as the lies ate away at him.

Tom knew she was teaching now. His mother had mentioned it in passing. But he didn’t know where. If he was being totally honest he didn’t _want_ to know.

If he’d had that information he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Would he stalk her?

Barrage her with letters crammed with platitudes?

Or would he do exactly what he just did the day before?

Run away.

Or worse…

Scream at her.

Maybe it was just better like this…

_Maybe Grace had been right all along._

Maybe they had _never_ been right for one another…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: And again... I will reiterate this is a work of fiction. No offense is intended and this fictional piece in no way indicates RL events in a certain relationship. It is purely that, fictional, to suit my narrative okay? <3


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter taking us from the event's immediately after Tom left Grace in India, up to 2015...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace POV
> 
> Trigger Warning for mention of miscarriage  
> Trigger Warning for allusion to fertility problems

 

Grace couldn’t remember the events which had immediately followed Tom’s departure from India.

Mainly because she’d collapsed with heatstroke soon after, having not hydrated her already sex-addled body and brain, _then_ sat without any sun protection for over two hours in the fierce midday sun.

Consequently, her skin had burnt to a crisp.

It had matched her long since fried brain perfectly.

How stupid could she have been to have believed Tom? _Again!_

Grace had been delirious for a day – everyone had thought it was the heatstroke but in reality it had just been her heart fighting her need to face reality. Her heart had been broken again as a consequence.

_Shattered into a million pieces._

And with that shattered heart Grace had found herself all alone in a bed that was suddenly far too big for her small body once more. This time she’d surrounded herself with a wall of pillows. It became her fortress. Her comfort in the lonely bed. Her armour against pain.

Her armour against any more hurt.

_Her surrogate Tom as she’d snuggled up against it night after night._

And then one morning she’d woken with the realisation of what she needed to do.

She _needed_ to move on.

However much it hurt she refused to go back to _that_ dark place ever again.

_No._

She needed a change of scenery.

Soon after, Grace had left India for good.

She’d already been planning to return to the UK, her tenure with _[Young Lives](http://www.younglives.org.uk/content/india)_ due to end the following month and her [PGCE](https://www.prospects.ac.uk/postgraduate-study/teacher-training/pgce) application sent. She scrapped her plans to travel around the subcontinent for a couple of months, suddenly desperate to be back home in the welcoming embrace of the only people who she could _truly_ be open and honest with.

_The only people who knew the secrets she’d been keeping all these years._

_See? She had learnt one thing at least…_

She needed family. And family meant Edinburgh now that her Oxford family had once again become way too complicated.

But she didn’t disappear like a thief in the night this time.

_And not like a certain Hiddleston had done…_

No. This time she’d told Sarah and they’d vowed to keep in touch. Her friend had been sad to see her go, but they’d both known they were moving in different directions and onto the next stages of their lives. Grace had been returning to university, while Sarah had already started trying for a baby - a fact which Grace didn’t quite know how to deal with.

Of course she had been happy for Sarah and Yakov.

But it was just _too_ close to home. The loss of having carried Sarah’s brother’s unborn child, even for a short time, had _still_ been too raw to relish the prospect of seeing someone else’s baby carrying the Hiddleston DNA.

She knew it was wrong to think like that. It was completely irrational. But it was how she’d felt. And if there was one thing her therapist had made her understand it was that if she felt her anxiety and depression being triggered, she needed to be proactive in dealing with the trigger.

 _Okay_ , so she’d completely ignored that fact when she’d let Tom – possibly the biggest trigger _ever_ \- back into her life…

_But lesson learned._

It would be nearly two years later, as she’d sat in the office of her gynaecologist, waiting for her check-up that Grace would find herself confronted with that same triggering ghost from the past again.

Grace had learnt not long after returning to the UK that the movie Tom had been filming in LA had been a pretty big deal.

_A pretty fucking HUGE deal as it happened._

Suddenly his face seemed to be everywhere.

She had been happy for him. Genuinely happy. He’d worked hard to get there and however much he’d hurt _her_ , she could never have denied his talent. She wasn’t evil enough to deny him his time in the spotlight.

But seeing his face on magazines – _albeit disguised under some elaborate costume_ – just brought back all the pain. All the hurt. All the desire. All the anger.

And so Grace studiously tried her best not to follow Tom’s rising fame, refusing to read any gossip magazines and extremely careful about the sorts of movies she watched. Just the mere flash of Tom in a trailer was enough to have her running out of the cinema.

As for other magazines and newspapers, she tried to stick to professional journals which she carried with her in case of any such eventuality. She knew it was verging on obsessive, but she told herself it was for the good of her health.

But this day. This particular day being half term, Grace had overslept, then had to hastily shower and dash across town – _town being London by now_ \- at the last minute.

Puffing and panting as she’d collapsed into the uncomfortable blue plastic chair of her gynaecologist’s waiting room, her brain had been whirring – _as it always did when she visited this office_ – and she’d desperately needed a distraction.

Reaching into her bag she’d groaned when she’d found it empty. Though it had been half term she’d had lessons to plan and had bookmarked some ideas in her latest copy of [TES](https://www.tes.com/).

For a few minutes she’d sat there, empty handed and telling herself it would be okay. But as the seconds ticked by she’d felt her nerves beginning to overwhelm her and she’d blindly reached out for the nearest distraction.

Her breathing had started to calm as she’d idly flicked through The Evening Standard from the day before, reading some trite piece about Christmas – _despite it still only being October!_ – and had oohed over a litter of kittens that had been rescued. But her heart rate had soon gone stratospheric as she’d found herself staring down at a dark haired, bearded Tom, _her_ Tom - _No! Not her Tom anymore_ – kissing some pretty brunette on the red carpet at the BFI Film Festival.

Feeling the nausea immediately overwhelm her she’d ran, not stopping until she’d reached the safety of her own little flat. That evening, after drinking way too much cheap wine – _well, it wasn’t a school night!_ – she’d wobbled her way precariously around the lounge with tear soaked cheeks to the mournful tune of [Who Knew](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJWIbIe0N90), her heart breaking anew.

It had been a lesson well learnt.

_Or so she’d thought…_

A few years later, Grace had trudged home from a particularly trying day at work. As she’d waited for her microwave meal to cook she’d flicked through the copy of The Guardian one of the teachers at work had given her, deeming it safe and wanting to read an article about the lack of education rights among refugee children - Grace having started doing some voluntary work again with UNICEF in her spare time - only to once again be stopped in her tracks as Tom’s [face](https://www.theguardian.com/film/2015/oct/08/tom-hiddleston-interview-crimson-peak) stared back at her with that easy smile of his. Hands trembling she’d closed the newspaper and threw it on the floor.

But her curiosity had been piqued.

_God he’d looked good…_

Older. Much more suave. Much more polished.

Still fucking sexy as hell…

_Oh Christ!_

She’d steadfastly tried to forget about it that evening. But two large glasses of Pinot later and she’d succumbed, picking the newspaper up off the floor, and filling a third glass as she’d started to read it like a woman possessed.

She had no idea what she’d been looking for. Some coded message to her perhaps? Some memory that they’d shared?

_Who was she trying to kid?_

It had been six long years since she’d last seen Tom in person.

However, as she’d started to read she’d found herself getting angrier by the second as the interviewer talked about Tom with such reverence.

But it was as she’d reached the part where the journalist had started waxing lyrical about Tom’s supposed sincerity for the notion of love and of having kids - _with whom, if anyone, she had no idea_ – that Grace had almost lost it. For the briefest moment it had even crossed her mind to ring the bloody journalist herself and tell him exactly how _insincere_ that infuriating man could be when he set his mind to it.

But the tears had started to fall before she’d got that far and she’d ended up curled up into a ball on the lounge floor, the tear soaked newspaper leaking its inky tears over her shirt.

The following day - _a glutton for punishment_ – she’d downloaded _The Great Beauty_ , a movie Tom had specifically mentioned in the interview, not truly understanding why she was doing this to herself.

Maybe she was _still_ seeking some coded message?

_Maybe she was just a fucking masochist…_

Either way, she’d sat down with more wine and started watching. Despite its arty opening, Grace had found herself moved by the achingly moving parallels intertwined through the themes of love and loss, with that of her and Tom’s life.

_Had Tom seen the same parallels as she had?_

Surely not.

He’d _clearly_ moved on…

Again Grace cried herself to sleep that night, not completely sure why she was so upset at the movie. It was _Tom_ who always did this to her.

She’d foolishly thought they’d shared something special all those years ago and yet the Tom the world saw now seemed not to be hurting at all…

When she’d woken the following morning she’d decided once and for all.

She _had_ to stop worrying about seeing his face everywhere. She couldn't avoid it forever.

And she had to move the fuck on. She _had_ to stop thinking about him.

He _clearly_ wasn’t thinking about her…

That sad realisation just confirmed her worst fear.

_They had never been right for each other…_

 

_~ End of Part Six ~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer**  
> I personally LOVE the Guardian interview which Grace gets so upset about. This is a work of fiction. Miss Grace Wallace-Stanley's opinions are her own, okay? ;)
> 
> Just because I probably haven't said this enough in recent chapters, I LOVE you all. Thank you for staying with on this emotional journey. Next time we see our intrepid duo we'll be back in 2016... <3


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Luke continue their heart to heart and a plan is hatched...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi POV - Tom, Grace & Luke

** Part 7 ~ Present Day **

And so Tom continued to recount his sorry tale of love and loss.

He told Luke how his heart had broken into a million pieces when Grace had disappeared seventeen years ago. How they’d reconnected in Chennai. His stupid revenge plan. How he’d started to believe their reunion had been serendipitous and had fallen for her again.

Tom spoke of his anguish about the way he’d manhandled Grace back in Chennai, and then _again_ last night. He told of his enduring concern for her. How, no matter how much he tried to put her out of his mind, she always seemed to somehow sneak back in at the most unexpected – _and often inopportune_ \- moments. The scent of jasmine in the air. The deeply resonant voice of Eddie Vedder. The sensuous feel of a silk tie between his fingers. The taste of chocolate ganache dancing across his taste buds. The memory of her smiling eyes.

_How she was all encompassing._

But finally, how she’d slapped him – _quite rightly_ \- that day all those years ago after he questioned her fidelity to him. He now believed – _mostly_ – that Grace’s garbled rant had been her way of trying to tell him that she’d been pregnant. He tried not to judge her on what he assumed she’d done as a result. He was a feminist. He was pro-choice.

But he’d _loved_ her. He’d _thought_ she’d loved him too… Why hadn’t she just told him back then?

_But would he have agreed with her decision?_

They’d both been _so_ young, just starting out in the world. It would probably have been the intelligent thing to do. But when had either one of them used their brains when around the other one?

For two smart people they tended only to act on their basest instincts.

Tom’s cock twitched at the memories that particular truth conjured up and he shook his head.

Instead he continued to voice his frustration and more than a hint of anger as he revealed the sad truth.

Well, that is, the sad truth as far as _he’d_ been able to deduce, because this was all _still_ conjecture as he’d had to leave that same day.

Work had come first.

_Just like it had when he’d left Edinburgh, and Grace behind…_

But Grace hadn’t answered her door before he’d left that day in India. He’d left his number, praying she would ring him. Praying they could work this all out. Praying that it was all just a huge misunderstanding and that _she_ had still wanted _him_ just as much as he’d still wanted her.

_And then she hadn’t called him back…_

But, he hadn’t bothered trying to find her either, had he?

Should he have fought harder? Should he have found her? _Made_ her talk to him? _Made_ her love him as much as he loved her?

 _But still he didn’t know the truth_.

It was perhaps one of the biggest secrets a person could keep and she was _still_ holding all those damn cards to her chest…

_And what a lovely chest it was…_

His cock twitched again.

_Focus!_

Tom had been pacing back and forth as he’d recounted each and every sordid memory, while Luke had attempted to keep his face impassive as he listened intently, not wanting to spook Tom with any expression which might cause him to clam back up again.

With a resigned sigh Tom finally collapsed back down onto the sofa. The two men had long since relocated to the lounge, Tom’s barely used wooden kitchen chairs not particularly conducive to long heart to hearts such as this.

“So Luke… Maybe you’re right?” Tom shrugged in defeat “What was it Nietzsche said? ‘ _There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness_ ’...”

He huffed out another sigh, running his hands through his hair again – _he swore it was all this bloody stress that was making his hair recede!_ \- before throwing his head back against the soft leather of the sofa, suddenly exhausted.

Dredging up all these memories did nothing to make him feel any better about his own part in things.

In fact the more and more he replayed the events of the last seventeen years, the more Tom saw how _his_ selfish behaviour had been the catalyst for most of Grace’s anger… _and consequently her hurt._

Christ! He’d hurt her _so_ much, in so many ways, and so many times now.

Maybe she’d been right last night?

He probably _should_ just forget about her.

The problem was, he couldn’t, even if he tried... And he _had_ tried. _So many times_.

She was part of him just as he was part of her.

“Well I wouldn’t put _that_ in the card Tom! From speaking to her and from what you’ve just told me it doesn’t sound like Grace would appreciate any allusion to her being mad!”

“Card? _What card?”_ Tom’s head popped up and his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked across at his friend, publicist, and now, it seemed, confidant.

Luke tapped his nose conspiratorially and smiled.

“I have a [cunning plan](https://youtu.be/vH3-Gt7mgyM) Sir!

*

Two days after the UNICEF event, a [bouquet](https://www.appleyardflowers.com/flowers/all-flowers/blue-sapphire) of mixed vintage roses arrived at school, much to Grace’s chagrin. As Dee, the receptionist, handed them to her at break time, Grace had stared down at the never ending sea of cream and pale pink petals with a growing disquiet. _Nobody ever sent her flowers…_

These were beyond stunning. The bouquet was huge! So huge in fact that she could not see over the mass of roses to the break room and had to be helped inside.

Noticing the little envelope attached, Grace shakily pulled out the soft blue notecard, her cheeks growing ever warmer as her heart thumped so hard in her chest that she swore her colleagues must surely be able to see the movements.

There, in Tom’s unmistakeable sprawling handwriting, were the simple words:

[“Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies”](http://www.iep.utm.edu/aristotl/)

Grace took a stuttering breathe, a whole host of emotions washing over her as she re-read the words, finding them vaguely familiar.

After the initial swoon, her thoughts had quickly flicked between ‘pretentious prick’ and ‘what the fuck?!’

_Those were far less problematic than dealing with the butterflies dancing in her tummy._

However, anger and fear quickly became the most prevalent emotions as she suddenly realised this also meant that Tom knew where to find her…

Had he not heard a word she’d said to him the other night? Had they not shared enough pain to last them both a lifetime?

Her heart pounded even harder in her chest and she must have wobbled because an arm began to guide her over to the chairs in the teacher’s lounge.

Grace complied, allowing herself to be seated, as another pair of hands gently prised the flowers from her clenched fist, mentioning something about putting them in water.

A glass of water was quickly put in their place and Grace was urged to drink.

Wordlessly she obeyed, still staring down, almost trance-like at the square of blue card in her other hand.

Idly she flicked the card over between her fingers and gasped, noticing for the first time that there was something else written on the back of the card.

Still in Tom’s handwriting were the initials _TWH_ – _again she rolled her eyes, was there really a need for the ‘W’ Thomas?!_ \- and a solitary ‘x’. She assumed he’d had to write those as an afterthought on the back, seeing as there was definitely no space on the other side. But it was the telephone number afterwards - _in much smaller, neater script_ \- that truly made her stomach lurch.

It was in a different hand, one Grace did not recognise. She wondered why Tom hadn’t just written it himself, but then looking at the size of the rest of his flourishing handwriting it became apparent that he would probably have run out of space…

_Fuck! Why did she even care?_

It wasn’t as if she was considering ringing it.

_Was she?_

No! She’d told Tom to just forget about her.

Ringing him would just send the wrong message. Give him hope.

Give _her_ hope…

“So…” the voice of Grace’s friend and colleague Nadia abruptly brought her back to reality “Who’s the secret admirer, eh Grace? You kept this one on the down-low woman!”

Grace gulped back a frustrated sob and tried to steady her breathing, avoiding the probing stare of her friend as Nadia tried to read the small notecard.

“Erm… nobody… Just. Erm… just somebody I _used_ to know” she flustered, hastily shoving the card in her pocket and taking a long gulp of the cold water, praying that the bell would hurry up and ring for the end of break. Never had she been more eager to get back to her hyperactive class.

“Yeah, _looks_ like ‘nobody’!” Nadia raised a knowing eyebrow “You know something? You’re a bloody awful liar Grace! Spill!”

*

Tom paced back and forth. He was between radio interviews checking his phone for missed calls from Luke.

_Nothing._

He looked at his watch for maybe the thousandth time that morning.

She _had_ to have received them by now.

_Surely?_

Oh God! What if she’d just thrown them straight in the bin?

_He knew he should have just gone down there! Sod the consequences!_

Flowers were so clichéd.

But Luke had insisted it would be better this way.

Less conspicuous.

Less likely to cause another bloody scene!

Less likely to provoke an angry reaction…

_Yeah. Maybe Luke was right._

Tom prayed he was.

 

*

Grace sat in her old [Mini Cooper](http://www.classicandsportscar.com/classifieds/classic-cars/mini-classic/all-mini-classics/rover-mini-cooper-in-british-racing-green-with-full-electric-sunroof/2355439), turning the blue card over and over in her small hands.

Was she _really_ going to do this?

 _Should_ she?

She realised then that despite her words the other night, she _needed_ closure.

If she didn’t ring she would always wonder ‘ _what if’_.

If all those years already spent wondering that same question had taught her only one thing, it was that she _should_ take the opportunity to ask that damn infuriating man what the hell had happened to him!

Why had he stopped calling her?

Why did he run away in India?

With shaking hands, Grace typed in the number on the card, and was surprised when, instead of hearing Tom’s distinctly deep sensual purr – _stop it!_ – she was greeted with _“Luke Windsor, Prosper?”_

She’d psyched herself up so much before making this call that on hearing Luke’s calm, if somewhat terse, voice instead of Tom’s familiar cadence, all reasonable - _and quite probably rational_ – thought escaped her once again.

For a moment Grace even considered hanging up.

But inhaling a deep, steadying breath, she tried again.

"How the fuck does he know where I work?" Grace hissed down the phone.

_Okay so it probably wasn’t the politest way to start a conversation…_

“Grace? Is that you?” Luke’s voice softened and Grace found herself desperately trying to calm down. She needed to be calm. She needed to be firm.

_She needed a bloody drink!_

“Grace? Are you there? I’m out of the office working at the moment. I don’t know if it’s the signal… are you still there?”

“Mmm hmm”

_Yeah. Real eloquent Grace!_

“Ah great. Okay… Grace. Tom would like the opportunity to speak to you again. He feels th-”

“Then why’s he got _you_ doing his bloody dirty work _again?!”_

On the other side of town Luke Windsor rolled his eyes and sighed down the phone. He’d feared this.

_Jesus! These two were as stubborn as each other!_

It was no bloody wonder they’d spent seventeen years skirting around their feelings for each other! He barely knew Grace and yet he could already hear the tell in her voice.

She was upset. _Hurt probably that it wasn’t Tom on the phone._

Luke suddenly realised how much pride and courage it must have taken for her to make this call.

 _Shit!_ He hoped he hadn’t just blown it for Tom.

“Grace. Tom’s working all day today. He’s in and out of promo interviews for his latest project… He can’t keep his phone on him. So we decided – _he_ asked me to put my number down. He didn’t want to risk missing your call you see?”

_Nice catch Windsor!_

It served no purpose for Grace to know that Tom had almost hit Luke when he’d refused to give his client the address of the school Grace worked at. It had of course been pretty simple to locate her with his contacts.

To be honest, if Tom had maybe bothered to watch a couple of episodes of _[Catfish](http://www.mtv.co.uk/catfish-the-tv-show)_ every once in a while rather than rewatching _Heat_ on a bloody loop he’d have probably found Grace’s work address years ago by himself and Luke might not have had to leg it down the corridor at Empire with his ringing phone, garnering curious glances as he tried to avoid attracting Tom’s attention or distract him from his [Podcast](http://www.empireonline.com/people/tom-hiddleston/tom-hiddleston-hugh-grant-simon-helberg-podcast/).   

“Oh…”

“Yes… so Tom asked that if you call while he’s in an interview that I ask if you’d meet him? It could be at his house, your house or somewhere neutral. Wherever _you_ would feel most comfortable…”

“I… erm… neutral…” Grace quickly stuttered out. There was no way in hell she was giving Tom Hiddleston her bloody address! And as for meeting him at _his_ house?

 _Yeah right buster!_ She wasn’t going to fall for that trick!

_What trick?_

Oh Grace! You know _exactly_ what would end up happening if you and Tom met at his house… He’d probably lure you into a false sense of security with food, and books, and intelligent conversation, and alcohol, and that voice and…

_Oh god!_

“Neutral would work.” Luke interrupted Grace’s less than innocent thoughts as he pondered all this down the phone. “Of course we’d have to agree on somewhere where Tom wouldn’t be bothered by paps and suchlike though…”

And just like that a cold shower doused Grace’s increasingly feverish though process.

_What the hell was she thinking?_

Tom was a huge star now! He wasn’t _her_ Thomas anymore… And she didn’t want to have to skulk around like some dirty little secret! They were just old acquaintances…

Even as she told herself that, the panic rose further as she imagined being stalked by paps and having unscrupulous journalists digging into her past.

_No…_

“Luke. Please tell Tom not to contact me again. I… I can’t… I just can’t do this…” she abruptly mumbled, her voice shaking with emotion, and with that she put the phone down.

Grace took a stuttering breath and turned on the ignition.

She was doing the right thing.

Wasn’t she?

_Stop it! You know you are…_

Then why were her hands shaking so much? Why was her heart pounding so hard it was making her nauseous?

In an effort to distract herself she switched on the radio, flicking to her favourite channel and closing her eyes. She took another deep breath before slamming her palms hard on the steering wheel and screaming at the top of her lungs.

“ _Fuck!!!!_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. _fuuuuuck!”_

Surprisingly her outburst made her feel slightly – _only_ _ever so slightly, mind you_ \- less angry, although if you were to have asked her, Grace would have struggled to tell you _who_ she’d been most angry with…

Tom, for being like a seductive bad penny that kept coming back?

Luke for being his bloody sidekick and master manipulator?

Or herself for getting sucked right back down the Tom Hiddleston rabbit hole.

_A-fucking-gain..._

_No! This was for the best…_

Checking the rear view mirror before reversing, her eyes fell to the huge bouquet covering most of the back seat and she sniffled back a tear.

It _was_ for the best, _wasn’t it?_

As Grace fought through the rush hour London traffic and her tears she hummed along to the radio.

But her voice faltered at the lyrics of the next [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4b2M5K7sbc0). It was not one she’d heard before, but the pain and misery perfectly matched her mood and overwhelmed her, her eyes blurring once more with tears.

Fearing an accident, Grace switched off the radio and looked for somewhere to pull off the road and sort herself out.

_This was getting ridiculous._

*

Luke stared at the phone in rising panic.

_Shit!_

He’d fucked that right up!

Luke logged onto the internet.

_Time for plan B…_

*

That night Grace sat on the sofa trying to concentrate on her research paper. When she realised she'd read the same line six times in as many minutes she gave up and set it aside with a groan of frustration.

Her brain was _still_ whirring with thoughts of Tom.

_She needed a distraction._

Switching on the TV she saw that Graham Norton was about to start and nipped into the kitchen to make herself a cup of cocoa – adding a healthy slug of brandy and a couple of marshmallows.

_Well, it was the start of the weekend and it had been a stressful day!_

She forced herself not to look at the flowers, hastily shoved into a bowl full of water in the sink when she’d arrived home. There was no way she was going to get all girly and swoony over the most clichéd form of seduction – _if indeed it even was that_ – so she refused to get emotionally invested in their potential meaning by arranging them in one of her vases.

 _Grace wasn’t taking any chances_.

And yet, for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away either. She told herself it was because it wasn’t the flowers fault.

And they were _beautiful_ flowers. Expensive flowers she had no doubt.

Probably nearly a week’s grocery budget would have gone into buying a bouquet of that size, especially from that particular florist.

 _Not in Tom’s world though_ – she reminded herself quickly.

In Tom’s world their cost would have just been a drop in the ocean.

Stirring the cocoa angrily she shoved that thought away.

_She couldn’t be bought!_

 

*

Luke Windsor stood over his friend and employer with a bottle of beer, trying to placate the usually even-tempered man.

_Well… with the exception of the last seventy two hours!_

“But _why_ hasn’t she called Luke? _You_ said this would work!”

Luke rolled his eyes – _internally of course, he wasn’t about to poke the bear!_ – at Tom’s steadily rising voice.

It was just on the verge of petulant whine and his cadence shockingly fitted the six foot two man child currently determined to pull out even more of his hair.

It was quite the departure from Tom’s usual effortlessly urbane public persona, and while Luke had seen small glimmers of his petulant side in the past, he’d _never_ seen Tom in full on sulking child mode before.

He hadn’t, of course, told Tom that Grace _had_ in fact called. And he certainly hadn’t told his dear friend that she’d – _again_ – told him not to contact her anymore.

Tom still had two more interviews in the morning. Luke needed his client fresh and focused. Not nursing a raging hangover and another set of bruised knuckles.

“Tom, she’s a teacher. She works long hours… She might not even be home yet!”

Even as he said it, Luke’s stomach was lurching.

_No. the plan was to try to keep Tom cautiously hopeful, while praying for a fucking miracle!_

As plans went, Luke knew it wasn’t much of one. But even with all his contacts and resources, he’d pulled a blank on this one.

It seemed Tom and Grace’s destiny really was in the lap of the God’s.

 

*

Settling back onto the sofa, Grace was just in time for Graham’s opening monologue and sipped her cocoa. _Mmm. Perfect end to a crappy day!_

_“…Donald Trump will be running for American president… I know, it’s going to happen! Yeah, I know I know. Of course in this country a trump is an unpleasant smell that comes from an anus… Same way as it is in America!”_

Grace nearly choked with laughter on her mouthful of cocoa.

 _“Let’s get some guests on!”_ Graham cried out in his usual exuberant manner and Grace reached for the packet of chocolate [Digestive](http://www.mcvities.co.uk/products/chocolate-digestives)’s she’d also brought with her.

 _Well?_ In for a penny…

_“…Sarah Pascoe…!”_

Hmm. Grace hadn’t heard of her but she already loved the blouse she was wearing.  Amelia in her class would have a field day is she was to wear one like that to school as the girl was still obsessed with The Little Mermaid…

Grace giggled at the thought.

_“…John Malkovich everybody…!”_

Ooh! Yes! One of her favourites!

“The king of cool… Samuel L Jackson!”

Ooh this is getting even better! Wow though. If Samuel L Jackson is second to last there must be a _huge_ star coming next! They always leave the best until last… Grace dunked her Digestive not really listening as she contemplated who it could be.

_Drum roll…_

_“…Please welcome… Mr… Tom… Hiddleston…!”_

“Oh would you please come the fuck on!” Grace moaned as Tom – _her Thomas_ …well, once upon a time her Thomas – appeared, looking dapper in the - what at first glance - looked like the same suit he’d worn the other evening.

He climbed up the stairs, narrowly missing banging his head on the low ceiling as he saluted the audience, just as Grace simultaneously dropped her Digestive in her cocoa with a loud plop.

Grace’s first thought was to reach for the remote. But for some reason her fingers froze on the buttons and she couldn’t seem to turn it off.

Instead, Grace slammed her ruined cocoa angrily down on the coffee table and stared at the screen in a mixture of curiosity, confused anger and more than a sprinkle of frustration that Tom had in effect managed to invade her home – _her sanctuary… without even being invited, and perhaps worse, while Grace was awake!_ \- which lead to an unexpected throb between her thighs.

As Tom started to recount how he’d met Robert De Niro, Grace’s heart started to beat faster. Oh my God! He’d _finally_ met him?

She cringed along with Tom as he recalled impersonating the legendary actor.

 _Oh Thomas!_ You fool… You wonderful, silly fool… He never could resist a dare!

_Oh!_

Despite her best attempts to hate Tom for making her feel so… so _confused_ , a warmth spread through her chest at the thought of Tom meeting one of his idols. She imagined he’d probably met many more of them since they’d last been in a room together. _Hell, maybe even Steven Spielberg by now…_

Pushing away the painful memories of their last interaction, Grace instead thought about how Tom must have reacted. The realisation that she’d missed out on seeing Tom’s face, missed hearing the excitement in his voice, made her feel something she hadn’t expected to feel.

 _Sadness_.

A great, walloping sense of sadness.

In a moment of rare clarity Grace realised she was going to be sad – _and fucking lonely as hell_ \- whether she saw the man again or not.

She tried not to think about that too much.

It was sending all sorts of confusing and troublesome ideas to her brain.

_Ideas that she was definitely not prepared to entertain right now..._

Instead she frowned at the manspreading, Tom’s powerful long legs taking up more room than any other guest’s on the low couch. _Jesus, they were so bloody distracting!_ As she looked along the couch every other guest had their legs crossed.

But not good old Thomas!

_Oh no! That man liked to spread ‘em wide._

He’d always told Grace it was more comfortable. Said his legs were too long for the height of most chairs and his… his _bits_ got uncomfortable if they were too cramped up.

_Seems nothing’s changed there then!_

He might want to look for a new tailor though, she suddenly laughed to herself. But it was a laugh verging on a groan as he moved his hands momentarily, giving herself - and no doubt the audience – an eyeful of his tightly clad bits!

She refocused her eyes on his hands in an effort to distract herself from the lascivious thoughts which now began to cloud her mind.

Unfortunately it was not a well thought out diversion tactic. Those huge, yet exquisitely delicate hands taunted her. Long, lithe fingers dancing through the air as he talked animatedly about his latest movie. But his knuckles?

_What the hell had he done?!_

They’d always been prominent – _Grace clenched her thighs tighter as she tried not to think about just how good those knobbles felt rubbed against her most private parts_ – but they looked red as well?

Like he’d punched something.

Or someone…

 _Oh shit!_ Even though she hated Harry she hoped Tom hadn’t done that. He could get into so much trouble. _Shit! Shit! Shit!_ It could even affect his career. His reputation.

And all because of her…

_Oh crap!_

However Grace was abruptly distracted from this worrisome thought by Tom suddenly being egged on to yodel.

 _Graham no!_ Please don’t ask him to do that! Don’t sing Tom…

_Please…_

But alas, ever the performing bear, Tom cheerfully acquiesced.

As he started to click his fingers – _fuck! Enough with the hands Thomas!_ \- Grace once again considered turning the TV over, but she became mesmerised as he began to sing in a way she’d never heard him sing before.

Wow!

He sounded like a professional! _Shit!_ He _sounded_ like Hank Williams!

She felt proud and aroused in equal measures as she tried not to stare at the veins bulging in his damn neck.

Still mesmerised – _and still squirming uncomfortably_ – she then watched a clip of the movie, with Tom again singing.

 _Christ! He looked skinny! But still good_ … How did he manage to do that?

But his eyes…

There was something strange about his eyes that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

But, before she could dwell on that they were back in the studio. Grace closed her eyes and just listened for a while. It was becoming too hard to look at him on the screen and not be able to touch him.

But when he started to talk about Samuel L Jackson – _or Sam as Tom seemed familiar enough to call him_ – Grace’s eyes opened wide as she realised the way in which they were talking amongst themselves, sounded awfully like they’d worked together!

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck?!

Tom knew Samuel L Jackson?!

He was one of Grace’s particular favourites. For a brief millisecond she considered asking Tom if he could get her the great man’s autograph.

But then she remembered what she’d said to Luke. And also that she wasn’t impressed by that kind of stuff – _usually_ – anyway…

_Yeah. Maybe not…_

She closed her eyes again and listened to his voice. And thought. _And squirmed_.

Why was she doing this to herself?

All it was doing was making her more and more confused.

And sad.

And aroused.

When she opened her eyes again and listened to the other guests she was relieved to see Tom had _finally_ crossed his legs

However the lip licking had started in earnest.

_Jesus Tom!_

Nothing changed. He was licking his lips, and fidgeting and… _Stop it! Just stop it Thomas!_

He was still such a wriggle arse – _don’t even think about that arse woman!_ – he never could keep still!

Grace tried her best to stop her traitorous brain from remembering the way Tom used to wriggle between her thighs but she moaned – _somewhat embarrassingly_ \- loudly into the empty room, only to then have to listen to Tom talk about some character he played pole dancing, or at least in fan art!

Her body and mind were beginning to stop fighting one another and she felt the wetness between her thighs and groaned again.

_Enough was enough…_

Switching off the TV, Grace numbly picked up her mobile phone, flicked to the call logs and dialled the most recent number before she chickened out.

 

“Grace!”

“Oh _Luke?_ ” Grace paused for a millisecond, disappointed that it was still him answering Tom’s phone. But the truth was, she didn’t even care anymore!

“I’ll do it... But it’s going to have to be on my terms…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay with this one... Combo of work, uni and sickness i'm afraid. Hope it keeps you all going... next one's going to be a few days i'm afraid. But thanks for reading! <3


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Grace FINALLY meet... and actually talk. Kind of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace and Tom POV
> 
> Trigger Warning inferred miscarriage/trauma.  
> Trigger Warning for inferred infertility.

 

Grace put down the journal she’d brought with her to calm her nerves. Scintillating as _‘The Supersuit: An example of structured naturalistic observation of children's altruism’_ was, it was not Shakespeare.

And it was not Tom…

And she couldn’t concentrate anyway.

This was all _far_ too strange. Way too weird for her silly little inconsequential life.

You see, Grace was sat alone at the table in Luke Windsor’s perfectly appointed kitchen – _Luke Windsor’s kitchen?!_ \- staring into space, a glass of Chardonnay sitting untouched by her shaking hand.

When she’d agreed to meet Tom the other night they’d gone back and forth over the phone trying to establish a ‘safe’ meeting place, as Luke described it, finally coming to the conclusion that if neither of their homes were options – and Grace was _still_ insistent on that – that Luke’s home was probably safer than a public space where they would be observed by fans, or worse, the paps. Reluctantly Grace had agreed, beginning to realise the heavy price Tom had paid for his success. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why that saddened her so much, but she chose not to dwell too much on it.

Instead, she fought not to get too angry at Luke. It had initially irked Grace that she’d inadvertently found herself arranging everything through him and not Tom himself. But she’d finally had to admit that in doing so, it had taken a little of the pressure off, knowing Tom wouldn’t be able to beguile her with his seductive voice, his charm or compliments and his probing questions.

_No, she was going to allow him to do all that in the flesh instead!_

_Absolutely not!_ She cursed herself resolutely.

She had come here today to close the chapter on some unfinished business. Nothing else. As she stared angrily at her shaking hands and willed them to stop she suddenly heard the rustle of keys followed by the creaking of the front door.

_Shit, shit, bugger shit!_

_Yeah. Real eloquent Grace,_ she thought as she realised she’d said those absolutely _in-eloquent_ words aloud.

A familiar deep voice called out hesitantly.

“H… hello?”

_Wow! Was the great and powerful Thomas Hiddleston nervous as well??!_

It should have made her feel better to know that she wasn’t the only anxious one, but the nausea stopped any such relief. Grace took a huge gulp of breath before responding. She genuinely felt like she was going to throw up.

_Why was she even here? Why was she doing this to herself… again?_

Before she could think too much on that she gasped out a response.

"I... i'm in the kit-"

Grace was cut off mid-sentence as the kitchen door opened wide, revealing a nervous, but still incredibly attractive, Tom behind it.

He stood in the doorway, trying to emote confidence as he straightened his long back and wide shoulders and looked down at her. Tom was a vision of sartorial elegance in his perfectly tailored suit, a pair of glasses perched on his patrician nose.

“May I come in?”

Tom’s anxious, yet engaging smile almost broke through her resolve and her face broke into a ridiculously fake smile.

“Of… of course!” she finally laughed at the absurdity of the situation. This was neither of their homes after all.

Tom also seemed to relax somewhat. That is, until he reached her.

Grace was still sat, now nervously fiddling with the stem of the glass and doing everything she could not to look at Tom as he hovered uncertainly above her.

_Shit!_

He felt so overdressed – he tried not to think about his _ideal_ state of undress – in his suit. He’d come straight from an event he’d been presenting at and hadn’t even thought to change. Luke had just dangled his spare house keys in his face and told him Grace was waiting.

Nothing else had mattered at that moment than getting to her.

But no, as he stood over her, he was beginning to get the distinct impression that she didn’t share his enthusiasm.

“Erm… thank you for agreeing to see me again” Tom started, already frustrated with Grace’s lack of eye contact.

Was he doing the right thing here? She clearly didn’t look comfortable.

Had he read her wrong the other night?

He’d thought he’d still seen a flicker of interest among the rage.

_Maybe he was just deluding himself?_

He hovered above her longer than was comfortable, hoping she’d stand so he could at least give her a hug.

When it became painfully evident that she was not going to even _look_ at him, much less _stand_ , he flopped unceremoniously down on one of the chairs with a resigned sigh.

“Luke said you wanted to see me… That you wanted to talk to me…” Grace suddenly mumbled and Tom lifted his head from his wringing hands.

“Of course I did! Did… did you not _hear_ me the other evening? Did you not read the note I sent with the flowers Grace?! Did… did you _like_ them? I know you’ve always loved roses. Not those mass produced ones… No, you always loved mum’s vintage ones. Unique ones… _Just like you…_ I… I tried to get jasmine too but they were out of season…” Tom rambled, trying to fill the silence in the room with something other than the fear and uncertainty that seemed to be permeating from Grace’s pores.

When still she didn’t answer Tom slammed his hand down on the table in frustration. Grace jumped and Tom immediately apologised, not realising how hard he’d hit it until he turned his palm upwards and saw the reddened flesh.

“Shit. Sorry Grace… I’m just… _fuck_ … why am I so nervous around you? I’ve known you almost my entire life?!”

 _“You’re_ nervous…?”

It was a whisper, barely audible over the sound of Tom’s blood pumping through his ears. He took a deep breath and tried to focus.

_He needed to calm the fuck down otherwise he was going to screw this up even before they’d had a chance to really talk!_

“Of course I’m nervous Grace…! The last time we met was less than auspicious. I said some pretty unpleasant things. And _you_ …” he desperately tried to temper the accusatory tone that was on the tip of his tongue “you said some harsh… but not altogether unfair things too as I recall…”

“I… I _am_ sorry about that…” she muttered, her cheeks reddening.

“It’s fine… I’ve heard worse” Tom shrugged with a sad laugh, hoping to make her smile, but Grace was still resolutely staring down at the table.

Grace?” Tom sighed heavily “Are you not even going to bother looking at me while I’m here?”

Grace heard the pain in his voice and her resolve broke. Cautiously, she gulped back the nausea which was still threatening to overcome her and rose her head ever so slightly, looking up through her dark eyelashes and into Tom’s anguished expression. Taking another deep breath she finally met his eyes.

The storm in Tom’s eyes settled immediately and he smiled, the gesture instantly lighting up his face.

Grace surveyed him then. He looked older than the last time she’d _really_ looked at him this closely. Older, and yet _better_ if that was even possible. She could see his eye wrinkles. And his smile lines up close and rather than retract from his handsomeness, if anything they only added to it.

However, it suddenly occurred to her that she’d had little to do with either of them. Not having been around to see or make him smile for such a long time. She was immediately jealous of whoever gave him those etched on memories.

Noticing the conflict in Grace’s mesmerising blue orbs, Tom tentatively reached out to her hand – the hand which had returned to play with the stem of the wine glass – and nervously pressed his own over it, praying he wouldn’t spook her.

“Grace…” he murmured soothingly as she jumped, her eyes full of fear.

_Of what? Of whom? Surely not him?!_

“Grace. _Baby_ … it’s me! _Thomas_ …”

He’d thought his words would centre her. Calm her.

But she immediately pulled her hand away and stood.

Tom rose just as quickly, almost tipping back the chair in his hurry.

“Don’t go!” he gasped out in panic.

“I… I wasn’t…” Grace looked up at him then in surprise and Tom’s face twisted in confusion.

“I was going to get you a glass of wine… It just occurred to me that I hadn’t even offered you one!” Grace blustered.

The truth was, she’d panicked. The once familiar tender touch of Tom’s warm hand on hers had brought back so many feelings - _more good than bad_ – that it had freaked her out.

She had to tell him things. Horrible things that would probably change his opinion of her forever. She couldn’t risk allowing any troublesome feelings to cloud her brain until she’d done that at least.

Even as she thought it Grace knew the inevitable outcome. _Tom would not be touching her again… ever._

Not after she told him the ugly truth. He would hate her. _Truly hate her_. Hate her stupid worthless body. Hate her lies. _Her deceit._

But there was no other way. She couldn’t live with the lies anymore.

“I’d love a coffee to be honest… here, let me make it” Tom’s voice broke through Grace’s thoughts and she willingly acquiesced and nodded.

“Actually I’ll have a coffee too while you’re making one” Grace walked to the sink and poured the glass of wine away, ignoring Tom’s raised eyebrows.

Luke had offered her a glass before he’d left and she’d gratefully taken it, thinking Dutch courage would help. But she’d felt so nauseous that she hadn’t even been able to stomach it. Coffee would be much better. Coffee would keep her alert. Focused.

_Vigilant…_

Sitting wordlessly back down in her chair, Grace tried not to stare as Tom effortlessly glided across the kitchen, sourcing mugs, milk and sugar and setting the fancy coffee machine working with practiced ease. Clearly the man knew his way around his employee’s kitchen and for some reason that made Grace smile to herself.

Tom had always wanted a brother. Not that he didn’t love Sarah and Emma you understand. But a brother. A kindred male spirit in the sea of oestrogen that was the Hiddleston household after James moved out…

Now it seemed he had an adopted one! Grace smiled at that. The Hiddleston’s always did like to adopt waifs and strays. She was, of course, a case in point! She wondered if that was what Luke had been too.

Tom filled the mugs, hoping Grace still took hers how he remembered. One sugar and a good dash of milk. He stirred the drink, deep in thought. So far things _really_ weren’t going how he’d hoped.

Not that he’d expected this to be an easy ride. This was Grace! He hadn’t expected _any_ kind of ‘ride’ – _Tom forced back a giggle at his pathetic joke_ – today at least. He knew he had stuff to apologise for. And by God was he going to try his best to _show_ her how sorry he was. But it seemed almost as if she had a barrier – no, a concrete _wall_ – up right now.

That made him sad. And even more worried. It would be a lie to say he didn’t still want her _that_ way. Jesus, he _was_ a man after all! And Grace was most _definitely_ a woman. A strikingly attractive woman – even in her simple jeans and check shirt. And in the endless sea of fake, made up women that Tom frequently found himself in, there was something refreshingly normal – _refreshingly alluring_ \- about Grace’s clean, make up free face.

Tom fought against the tide of arousal that almost set him off course as he breathed and tried to concentration instead on the end goal.

He wanted Grace in _every_ way. Mind. Body. Heart. And Soul. Yes, it was true that a certain body part was the one which always seemed to take precedence whenever they met, but he _had_ to make her understand just how much more she meant to him, once and for all…

And so, with a refocused mind, Tom carried the drinks over to the table and set Grace’s mug down with a smile.

“I hope it’s okay?”

Tom sat back down with his own mug, this time next to Grace as he watched her take a sip, her small hands barely able to contain the huge mug. Luke was just as big a caffeine addict as he was, and his mugs were testament to that fact.

“Mmm” Grace smiled into the mug "You always did make a good cup of coffee" she hummed as she took another deep sip.

“Maybe, but I'm much better at making breakfast..." he winked and leaned closer, breathing in the scent of her.

Grace recoiled and held her breath. Was Tom _already_ trying to seduce her? This was all going far, far too quickly. There was so much to say first.

So many things Tom needed to _hear_.

Only then would she know if they still had _any_ chance together… though she doubted it greatly.

Grace set the coffee mug down with a thump and took a deep breath.

Tom immediately panicked.

_Shit! So much for his vow to use his brain! Fuck!_

Grace looked angry now. He didn’t blame her! But she was just so… _so intoxicating_. He couldn’t seem to help himself around her.

“I… I’m sorry…” Tom stuttered out, his eyes wild with fear.

Grace looked at him with such confusion.

“Tom, it’s me that needs to apologise…” she took a stuttering breath, seemingly bracing herself “The last time we spoke, I mean _really_ spoke – back in _India…_ ”

Grace paused, enunciating the word ‘India’ like it was some sort of expletive and making Tom sigh as he ran his hand through his hair in disgust at the thought of how he’d behaved that day.

He opened his mouth to apologise but Grace spoke first and he closed it again and listened.

“I… I tried to tell you something. Something that happened… something that happened to me… to… to… _us_. But I made a pig’s ear of it then. I can’t… _I don’t_ _want_ _to do that again_ … I owe you the _truth_ , Tom. But… I can’t think straight when you’re this close…” she suddenly spat out, almost accusatory, gesturing at him with her hand and Tom shrunk back, almost as if he’d been slapped. In his hurt, he didn’t process the inadvertent revelation that Grace had let slip.

Instead he moved his chair back so he was sat facing her, steepling his hands under his chin silently, as he waited for Grace to continue.

And continue she did.

Tom sat silently, listening intently as Grace recounted the days and weeks following his departure from Edinburgh. Much of it he’d known - _or so he’d thought_ – she’d missed him desperately, just as he’d missed her! But as she’d told of her anguish when she couldn’t reach him, and then the tragic events which had unfolded shortly afterwards, Tom had felt the vile taste of bile beginning to rise in his throat and immediately reached out to Grace, wanting, no _needing_ to somehow show her how desperately sorry he was that he hadn’t been there when she’d needed him the most.

But she’d pulled even further away, shaking her head and telling him through trembling lips that there was more. _Much more…_

_More?_

He was still trying to process the fact that Grace had been pregnant once with _his_ child – his _son_. That she’d been through unimaginable trauma and nearly died, possibly lost her chance to _ever_ be a mother – and all because of _him_ – only for him to then ignore her calls…

_And oh God! He’d almost accused her of having an abortion! Accused her of sleeping around…_

As Tom’s tears matched Grace’s, he silently wondered what more she could possibly say to make him feel any worse?

But just as he was thinking there couldn’t _really_ be anything worse than that, Grace had bravely told him about what happened on New Year’s Eve. The pain, shock, disgust, anger – at himself for not staying with Grace that night, for not telling everyone there and then she was his girlfriend, and at Grace for running away in such a fragile state - overwhelmed Tom then and he broke down, shaking and gasping for breath as he tried to fight his desire to scream at himself for being so fucking self-centred in his pursuit of his career.

_Always in the fucking pursuit of his career!_

He’d run away when she’d tried to tell him all this seven years ago. Yes it had been because work had called him back. But could he _really_ blame Grace for thinking he’d run away? He had no idea what had happened to his note. But the truth was it didn’t even matter anymore...

_He should have fought harder! He should have found Grace earlier. They should never have left it seven years._

Christ they should never have left it _seventeen_ years!

There had only ever truly been Grace in his heart. And there only ever would be…

He looked wordlessly at Grace, her head bowed and he finally understood. He didn’t deserve her. He understood now why she hated him. He’d ruined her life!

He felt inadequate. Disgusted with the part he'd played, his own heartache all but evaporating in the face of the reality of Grace’s.

Okay, so he could not be held responsible for what someone else's body did to them, but the _reason_ it had all happened?

_Well, there was no escaping his role. Was there?_

Had he not pursued her up in Edinburgh there would never have been a baby – _Tom’s heart twisted in pain_ \- and had there never been a baby Grace wouldn't have gotten sick.

But even worse than that, had he put _her_ before his acting and university she wouldn't have come home steaming drunk and risked her _life_ for him. The tears fell in earnest as he tried - _and failed_ – to even begin to imagine the isolation she’d felt, alone and fighting for her life, feeling totally unable to contact anyone close to her.

Not him.

_But not even her best friend!_

Certainly not his mum, who had, for as long as he could remember, been a surrogate mother to Grace.

No. Grace had been alone. Totally and utterly alone. Alone and abandoned as her life had, to all intents and purposes, dripped away.

He felt sick. The room began to spin.

_He needed air._

Wordlessly he rose, unable to look again at Grace’s bowed head of rejection as he half ran, half stumbled to the door leading out into the back garden and sank to the floor in despair.

 

Grace gulped back a sob as she felt the table shift slightly as Tom rose and ran to the door.

_Well she’d done it now!_

Now it was _definitely_ over. Now Tom _finally_ saw her for what she truly was.

 _A fucked up, screwed up, liar._ _Barren and worthless to anybody_.

Swiping her snotty nose along the sleeve of her shirt – _the very same plaid shirt she’d so painstakingly chosen earlier to ensure she didn’t come across as having tried too hard_ – Grace gulped back more tears and stood.

Her eyes flicked towards the still open door and she silently closed it, not even daring to look outside.

Tom was gone.

_And this time it would be for good…_

It was time for her to leave too.

Grace silently made her way to the front door, letting herself out and started walking.

It was finally over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on! You weren't expecting it to be that easy, were you?! But, at least Tom is FINALLY in possession of all the facts now...
> 
> Apologies in advance for invoking Pine tears *sniffs*
> 
> But in all seriousness, BDC reached 300 kudos today so THANK YOU to each and every person who has taken time out of their day to read this frustrating as hell tale... I hope to reward all your patience soon enough. <3


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks, It's the penultimate chapter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV - Luke, Tom and Grace

Luke Windsor considered himself to be an honest man.

He was a hard-worker. Professional and dependable. Fiercely loyal.

But above all else, he was honest. It wasn’t easy in his profession, but it was a trait he prided himself on.

So as he sent the request from his laptop - _his personal laptop. He couldn’t afford any fuck ups with this_ – he knew he was risking not only his reputation, but also his own personal integrity.

He’d already set the wheels in motion shortly after the frantic phone call two days ago…

 

“Luke… she’s… she’s gone mate. I… I’ve fucked it up… I’ve fucked it up big time…”

“What? Jesus Tom! _What have you done now?!”_ Luke had quickly tried to temper his words as he caught the sudden, anguished wail of Tom sobbing down the phone.

“Wait… don’t go anywhere. I can be back home in twenty minutes. Don’t go _anywhere_ Tom…wait there, yeah? _Please?”_

Luke had ended the call and apologised to his partner and parents with a roll of the eyes and a “Sorry. No rest for the wicked!”

He’d groaned to himself at missing out on his mum’s roast dinner as he’d fished his keys out of his pocket and made his way out to the car. Once inside he’d immediately tried to dial Grace’s number.

 _Of course it had just rung out_.

When Luke Windsor had finally arrived home he’d found his usually affable client stood, ghostlike and shaking in the hallway.

On the drive over he’d tried Grace’s phone repeatedly, but logic told him that whatever had happened at his house must have been bad, and that consequently she had probably switched it off. Fear and frustration had fought with one another in Luke’s gut as to what the bloody hell had happened between the two of them this time, but as he’d unlocked the front door, his concern had quickly turned to Tom’s health.

The usually unflappable man _– discounting the last week of course -_ had looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

*

When Tom had stopped throwing up in Luke’s back garden, painting the water of the ornamental fountain a lurid shade of green on account of the vile kale smoothie he’d forced down early that morning, he’d tried to tamp down his emotions.

 _He’d wanted to be calm for Grace_.

She’d been so brave, not only back in 1999, but just moments ago, as she’d recounted every horrifying detail with such dignity. Meanwhile Tom had been so overcome with a whole plethora of emotions and had been afraid his own grief would overwhelm her or make her feel in some way responsible. The nausea had been the kick he’d needed to nip outside and compose himself for her.

As far as he was concerned, it really wasn’t _his_ pain to own. Grace had been the person who’d had to go through such unimaginable pain and stress. So Grace needed _him_ to be strong. To protect her. To make sure she was never alone again.

_And that was exactly what he’d intended to do._

So, it had come as quite a shock when he’d come back inside, less than five minutes later, only to find the kitchen empty. Immediately Tom’s stomach had sunk and he’d heaved again, this time luckily reaching the sink just in time.

_Luke would’ve killed him if he’d gotten it over the antique maple worktops!_

As he’d rinsed his mouth, Tom had tried to tell himself Grace would be in the bathroom, or the lounge…

But as he’d searched the deserted house, it had soon become blatantly apparent that she had gone.

And that realisation had hit him square in the jaw.

His first thought had been to run after her. But as he’d reached the front door he’d realised he had no fucking clue where she’d even run _to_. The quiet street had been deserted. He didn’t even know which part of London she lived in, much less an address. Luke had sworn he didn’t have her home address.

It was a Sunday afternoon and all Tom had to go on was a mobile number that Luke refused to give him – _on pain of death from Grace herself apparently_ – and the name and address of the school she worked at, which _again_ only Luke knew the details. It being Sunday, those would have been of little use anyway.

No. This time it seemed like Grace had finally made herself loud and clear. She didn’t want him anymore. She wanted him to forget about her…

He owed her this. After everything he’d put her through, he owed her this…

_Didn’t he?_

It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? _For him to just leave her the hell alone?_

So why was the bile rising back up his throat again?

As far as Grace was concerned, Tom was nothing more than an anathema to her now. He was just a reminder of all the pain and loss she’d been through.

The reality of all this had hit Tom just as Luke arrived home, pushing open his front door, only to witness Tom collapsing to his knees as sure as he’d been hit with a fist, his heart shattering.

“I… I can’t… I… I don’t deserve her…” Tom had mumbled, each sentence wracked with gut-wrenching sobs “She’s too fucking good for me… What she’s been through… Oh God! What I’ve done to her… what she’d endured? Because of _me!”_

That dawning realisation had been yet another sucker punch to Tom’s gut and he’d dry heaved, the tears refusing to stop.

But these weren’t tears of self-pity.

 _No._ These were the tears of a man filled to the brim with remorse. So much remorse that it had been spilling from his eyes, his pores, his gut…

All this time Grace had been alone. Alone, and thinking he didn’t care. Thinking she was nothing to him…

When in fact she had meant _everything_ to him. And still did…

_But now it was too late._

*

“Why is it _always_ too late?” Tom’s voice had been tremulous, full of unspoken remorse.

Luke had tried to guide Tom to the comfort of the lounge, but the older man had looked right through him and proved immovable from the hallway as he’d continued to kneel in the same spot Luke had found him in nearly an hour earlier. Tom had slumped, almost in a daze as he’d clutched great fistfuls of his hair and rocked back and forth on his haunches.

In desperation, Luke had called a doctor. A discreet, trusted doctor. Tom had been sedated and put to bed in Luke’s spare room while his publicist had wearily paced back and forth, debating how the hell he was supposed to deal with _this?_

He was beyond frustrated.

It was fucking clear as day to him that Tom and Grace still loved each other deeply.

Why then, was it so bloody difficult for _them_ to see it?!

Over the course of the next forty eight hours Tom’s mood did not improve. The man looked to all intents and purpose as if someone had just died, which Luke guessed wasn’t altogether that far from the truth.

Meanwhile, Grace still wasn’t returning Luke calls. He’d even gone as far as to leave a message at the school (something he’d sworn he would never do).

The truth was, Luke was almost as worried about Grace as he was Tom. Obviously his client would always be his prime concern, but Tom had told him what had happened to her - _not in any great detail you understand_ \- but enough to get the picture. It seemed to Luke that they needed each other more than ever.

But Grace had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth and Tom was acting like his world had ended.

And Luke began to grow restless. His client – no, his _friend_ – had worked too damn hard to piss it all away like this.

_Desperate times did that though…_

They made you do things you would never normally do.

Things that - normally - you would consider completely unethical.

So that was how Luke Windsor came to be stood in this tasteful [City of London](http://grocershall.co.uk/venue-hire/halls-rooms/the-livery-hall/) venue the following Saturday, celebrating the nuptials of Clem and - _what was the groom’s name again?_ \- Oh yes, Robert.

_Clem and Robert._

Two people Luke Windsor had never even heard of, much less met before yesterday.

But as they say. _Needs must…_

It was as he was contemplating this very thing, trying to avoid the suspicious glare of an older woman, that someone grabbed his arm. Immediately Luke froze. Had he been rumbled already?

As Luke slowly turned - _trying to remember the names of the bride and groom again_ \- he briefly wondered if you could get a criminal record for crashing a wedding. In hindsight, perhaps he should have been a little more fastidious in _that_ research rather than in tracking certain people’s whereabouts this week…

“What are _you_ doing here?!” the woman hissed.

“Nice to see you too Grace!” Luke heaved a sigh of relief as he raised the glass of champagne he was holding to his lips and took a sip before setting it down and gathering his resolve.

“I… I’m an old friend of Rob’s”

_“Oh really? Where did you two meet then?”_

It was immediately evident that Grace wasn’t buying his lies, and quite frankly Luke was relieved. He was tired. He wanted nothing more than to just get the job done and get out of there before someone threw him out.

“We didn’t… We haven’t. It’s a lie. I came here hoping to speak to _you_ actually Grace… seeing as you won’t return my calls…”

Grace gasped, though she wasn’t entirely sure what she was most surprised at.

Luke’s honestly, or his bare faced cheek crashing the wedding in the first place!

"Tom and I clearly have nothing left to say to one another Luke! Anyway, how did you even know I’d be here?" Grace's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Luke coughed nervously, his poker face dissolving as he suddenly looked guilty.

"I, erm... well... I _might_ have pretended to be James on Facebook..."

Grace’s eyes widened and her mouth hung open.

"That wasyou?! Oh my God! Are there no depths you wouldn't sink to in order to serve your master?!" Grace slammed down her own glass of champagne and was about to storm off, when Luke tentatively reached his hand out to stop her.

 _“Don’t touch me!”_ she hissed and Luke recoiled, quickly checking to see if anyone had heard.

"Wait! _Please!"_ Grace saw desperation in the younger man's eyes and paused, pursing her lips in order to stop the tirade forming on the tip of her tongue. 

“Tom doesn't know I’m here!” Luke gulped before he continued _“I swear!_ And he _certainly_  doesn't know I’m impersonating his father on social media in order to track down the love of his life!”

Grace swayed on her feet and suddenly wished she’d finished her drink.

“Wait... What?!”

“Erm... Tom doesn't know..." Luke repeated, his cheeks crimson as he looked frankly mortified at how far he'd gone. "I swear Grace. In fact he'd probably sack me on the spot if he knew I'd done this. He swore me to secrecy... And, erm... well… he might have made me swear not to contact you again either...”

Grace’s mouth was hanging open, still trying to process Luke's previous revelation.

_The love of his life._

That was what Luke had said.

Had Tom _really_ said those words to Luke though? Or was this just another elaborate plan to appeal to her lonely heart?

Or worse, had Luke just assumed that Tom still cared?

She _had_ to know.

“You... you said... erm... you said 'the love of his… his _life’?”_

Her voice trembled as she finally said the words aloud.

“I did...” Luke nodded slowly, his eyes fixing hers with a knowing smile “That's what Tom said. I don't think he thought I heard him, but I did. And he said your name Grace. Over and over again in his sleep. So many times over the years...”

Grace felt... she didn't know _how_  she felt. She felt nauseous, and excited, and dubious, but mostly scared.

What Luke was saying wasn't fair.

_She’d tried to move on._

Whatever Luke _thought_  he'd heard, Tom had moved on as well.

He’d run straight out of Luke’s house when she’d finally revealed the real Grace to him.

_The liar. The failure. The waste of space..._

“You're good for him Grace. I can already see that. You're normal...”

Grace raised an eyebrow and Luke shook his head.

“No! Erm... I mean, you're not in the...” he held his hands up and gestured with his fingers “' _profession'_ so to speak. He needs that Grace. He needs that grounding from the person he loves. He yearns for it...”

Grace shook her head.

“Tom doesn’t love me and I'm not grounded Luke! I'm a fucking mess!”

“Actually, your social media says otherwise!” Luke muttered.

Grace bristled but Luke continued on obliviously.

“You have friends. You're popular among your peers according to your LinkedIn and you seem like a hoot on Facebook - loved that [cat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8KpPw303PY) video you posted the other day by the way! I was crying laughing at the one in the baseball cap!”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Grace balked.

_Just how much did this man know about her? He was beginning to scare her._

“Firstly… I do NOT fucking appreciate being cyber stalked. By _anyone!_ Do you understand me?” Grace glared at Luke and he nodded slowly, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose before opening his mouth to speak.

Grace promptly held her hand up, indicating that she was not finished.

“Secondly, and here’s the thing Luke. I’m not one to post every time I’m having a bad day like some people do! Don’t confuse my silence with wellness! And don’t fucking assume that because I’m laughing at a damn cat video that my laughter isn’t hiding pain! For every _happy_ status I’ve ever written on Facebook I could _easily_ have written ten _unhappy_ ones that very same day…”

Grace gulped back frustrated tears, realising she’d revealed more than she’d intended to.

“Just… Just don’t judge based on what you don’t see… _okay?”_

“Okay. I get that” Luke breathed “Firstly, you’re right. I did invade your privacy. And I am truly sorry for that Grace. It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing…well, not to this extent!”

Luke shook his head, his cheeks red with embarrassment “I think, and believe me when I say this is no excuse Grace, I am guilty of blurring the lines between my professional relationship and my friendship with Tom. I vet _anyone_ who comes into contact with him, for obvious reasons. It’s my job Grace. But the lengths I went to this time were over and above my pay grade. Anyone’s pay grade… It was completely unacceptable, I realise that now, and while I am deeply sorry, I did have good intentions…”

“Which were…?”

“Grace, I wasn’t lying that night at the UNICEF event. I have _never_ seen Tom behave that way with or about anyone else. _Ever!_ ” 

“Yeah well maybe you just don’t _know_ Tom as well as you think you do. Or me for that matter!”

“I know he loves you… And I’m willing to put money on the fact that you love him just as much…”

“How Luke?” Grace’s closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again and looking questioningly at him.

“How do I know Tom loves you? Because he says so in his sleep. _All the time_ – and yes, _I know, I know!_ It must sound weird Grace! We don’t share a bed! But we do travel together a lot and he sleeps then - must be my scintillating company!” Luke attempted a joke before remembering his point. “But anyway, the last time was the night I had to wrestle him off Harry Evans! Tom was going to kill that pathetic excuse for a man Grace! Did you know that?”

“What?! Oh God!”

“He was distraught at the thought of someone trying to hurt you…”

“And I know that, just like you, he hides his pain…From the public, from his family. Sometimes even from me…But Tom loves you Grace. I’m certain of it!”

“Then _why_ did he run away again? Why did he run out your door when I told him about… about…” the tears were pouring down her cheeks now and Luke couldn’t bear it. He took Grace in his arms and hugged her tightly, trying to sooth her as he felt her tense body fight against his embrace for a second before she almost collapsed into his arms.

Noticing the beads of sweat on her brow, Luke wrapped one arm tentatively around Grace’s waist and escorted her towards the door.

“Grace, let’s get you some fresh air okay?”

She moved wordlessly under his guidance, her head spinning as she fought so many emotions.

She was exhausted from fighting this same battle.

Totally and utterly exhausted of fighting her feelings anymore.

Luke settled Grace on the wall outside and sat down next to her, waiting for her breathing to settle down.

“You asked me why Tom ran away and I didn’t answer you. I didn’t answer because it’s not my question to answer. It’s Tom’s…”

“But…b… but _he’s_ not here to ask Luke! And I can’t go on like this! I _need_ to know…”

“So let’s go ask him Grace…”

Luke held out his hand to Grace in invitation.

 

Wordlessly Grace took it...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to leave you all hanging there... The final chapter will be up by weekend as I have a huge assignment due and interview to prep for first. Gah! RL sucks! ;)
> 
> <3


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay here it is, the final chapter of Boys Don’t Cry. 
> 
> I just want to take the opportunity to thank each and every person who has joined me, Grace and Tom on this bumpy journey. It’s been rough at times, but the love and support you guys have given me has been truly overwhelming. Whether that’s been in the form of kudos, hits or a comment (or fifty) - you guys know who you are ;) – I honestly don’t think I could have done it without you all, so from the bottom of my angst-ridden heart, thank you! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multi-POV ~ Grace and Tom
> 
> One of these days I MIGHT write a short, succinct chapter… Today is not that day. So buckle up, because this one is 12,811 words long! I’m not adding any specific warnings for this chapter, it’s all up there in my tags already... Enjoy! <3

 

**_“Love is when you cease hesitating” ~ Frédéric Beigbeder_ **

 ~*~

**_ _ **

 

Tom stood at the door - surprised yet confident to the untrained eye - silently assessing Grace. His hands - _his huge, expressive hands_  - though... Well, they were _always_  his tell.

Today they raked nervously through his perfectly coiffed hair, only to then smooth the front of his plaid shirt, momentarily fiddling with the reading glasses dangling down from the almost obscenely unbuttoned neckline.

_Must not look directly at that soft, tanned skin...._

_Must not look at his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows a breath._

_Must not look at that smattering of soft hair_ – _mmm, remember just how soft? - peeking out._

The shirt also looked soft. So, so soft. So inviting…

It was becoming even more so as Grace watched in wordless admiration as Tom’s long lithe fingers splayed wide over the almost threadbare cotton as he continued his tortuous descent.

It was like he was stroking himself for her.

And she was hypnotised.

_Mmm... Just a bit lower please?_

_No!_

Abruptly Grace shook her head. _What was she doing?!_

She refused to be diverted by Tom’s hands...

Tom suddenly shook his own head and broke into a nervous smile, seemingly realising he still hadn’t spoken.

“Grace?! Luke?! What… what are you both doing here? I mean… _shit_ … sorry! Come in… come in!” Tom’s hands stopped nervously stroking himself long enough to gesture to the pair to come inside.

“Actually mate, I have some things to be getting on with, y’know?” Luke looked over Grace’s shoulder at his client and friend, and mouthed ‘ _don’t fuck this up!’_ before tapping Grace on the shoulder.

“You don’t mind, do you Grace? It’s probably best that you two do this alone… But if you need me to take you home later, you have my number okay?”

“I… I can take her…” Tom immediately blurted and Grace looked from one man to the other and simply nodded.

Satisfied that neither seemed about to murder the other, and that they didn’t look worried about him leaving, Luke cryptically muttered “Just remember what we talked about…” as he gave Grace a friendly hug, before giving Tom a man hug as the older man whispered “Thank you. I don’t know _what_ you did but _thank you!”_

Luke smiled somewhat shiftily and waved as he left them to it.

Grace still hovered on the doorstep as Tom looked down at her, staring as if seemingly fighting some internal battle.

Deciding the time had finally come to take the bull by the horns, Grace coughed quietly and attempted a nervous smile.

“So… Can I come in?”

“Shit! Sorry… yes… yes!” Tom stood to one side and beckoned her in with his hand.

The truth was, in all the excitement of seeing her there he’d almost bottled it. He was also fighting an inner urge to just grab hold of her and never let her go.

But he knew they still had a lot of talking to do before that could, or even might, happen.

But it was a good sign her being here at least.

_Wasn’t it?_

Realising Grace was still stood in his hallway, looking at him questioningly as to where she should go, Tom quickly came back to his senses and ushered her towards the lounge, but not before he admired her curves in the champagne satin dress she was wearing, her hips swaying as she made her way along the hallway.

The sleek silhouette accentuated her slim waist and rounder hips, peeking out invitingly from under the silk pashmina draped around her upper body. Her glossy dark hair was pinned up in an elaborate up-do.

_She was exquisite._

He suddenly felt incredibly underdressed in his faithful old plaid shirt and black – _well, slightly greying if he was totally honest_ \- jeans. He’d been sprawled out morosely on the sofa, listening to Bon Iver and wallowing in his grief as he flicked through an analysis of Shakespeare’s Tragedies.

 _Oh yes. He really knew how to wallow!_ But at least it had been keeping his mind off Grace for a moment…

Yet here she was!

Tom wondered if she’d dressed up like that for him, and he gulped nervously.

 _“So…”_ Grace anxiously shuffled from one stiletto heeled foot to the other, her eyes surreptitiously darting around as she tried to take in as much of Tom’s home as she could. From what she’d seen so far it was elegantly understated, classy yet homely. Quirky but still stylish.

 _It fitted Tom to perfection_.

“So… erm… _shit!”_ Tom stuttered in response before suddenly blurting out “Oh fuck! I’m sorry Grace! I don’t know why I’m so nervous…”

One huge hand raked through his now fluffed up hair as he seemingly sought to calm himself and Grace knew it was up to her to speak first, especially seeing as her sudden appearance was the reason the usually eloquent man was now floundering in front of her.

“Sshhh… It’s alright Tom! It’s just _me_ … just Grace” Grace grinned but her voice was barely above a whisper as her own hands nervously fiddled with her pashmina “I… I should probably explain why I’m here…”

Tom’s hand ran down his face as he tried to tamp down his nerves. _Oh God! Please let it be for a good reason…_

He wasn’t sure he could take _another_ rejection from her.

Suddenly, and just as Grace opened her mouth to continue, he realised they were both still awkwardly stood in the doorway of his lounge. Grace was still wearing her pashmina and he hadn’t even offered her a drink!

_Jesus Tom! Get with the fucking program man. She’s going to think you’ve turned into a Neanderthal!_

“I’m sorry! I’m being terribly rude. Make yourself at home” Tom gestured towards the sofa, avoiding the raised eyebrow from Grace, instead blustering on “Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Erm…” he glanced down at his watch, evidently having no idea what time of day it even was, before obviously deciding it was an acceptable time to start drinking. “Or wine? Would you like a glass of wine Grace? I think I could definitely do with a glass…”

Grace couldn’t help it. She laughed.

Tom stopped talking, suddenly mortified at Grace’s giggles.

“Bugger… sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… _sorry!”_ Tom’s cheeks were growing pinker and pinker as he fumbled again with his shirt, but that stopped Grace’s laughter immediately.

_No! Stop it Thomas!_

Thinking quickly, she nodded and smiled, trying to keep her eyes off those damned wandering fingers.

“Wine!” Grace gasped out, mortified by how quickly her voice had become so breathy, and immediately coughed as she tried to mask it.

If Tom noticed – _and to be honest she’d be shocked if he had, given the way he was still nervously stroking his neck_ \- he didn’t say anything.

“Righto! I think I’ve only got red in though at the moment. Is that okay?” Tom suddenly seemed to snap back to attention and Grace nodded in relief as his hands started gesturing again.

Just as he turned to make his way out towards the kitchen Tom caught Grace fiddling again with her pashmina.

_Jesus! His mother would be so disappointed in his hosting skills!_

“Um, do you want me to hang that up for you or something?” Tom pointed towards Grace’s shoulders and she looked down, catching a glimpse of her cleavage in the plunging neckline concealed underneath.

_Shit! Why didn’t she get changed before she came here?_

She was too hot, part nerves, part room temperature – _Jesus, did he have the heating on in May?? There was a heatwave going on outside!_ \- But she was also wearing a decidedly revealing dress underneath the swath of silk. Without a hint of conceit she realised that by removing the pashmina, it would likely make getting any sense out of the already nervous Tom downright impossible.

“Erm… no. I’m fine for now thanks” she hastily shook her head, her face flushed and painfully aware of Tom’s now confused face.

“Right… well. Erm, as I said, make yourself at home and I’ll get that wine…” Tom gestured again towards the sofa as he made his way quickly into the kitchen.

His hands were visibly trembling as he pressed them momentarily on the cool worktop, taking a moment to try to compose himself.

Grace was _here_.

In _his_ house!

And he was acting like a fucking teenager anxiously trying to woo his first date!

The irony of that picture wasn’t lost on Tom and he shook his head. _He needed to man up! He was thirty five years of age for God sake! He’d been around the block more than once._

But this was Grace…

Nothing had ever compared to the way he’d felt about her. Still felt about her… But what if she was keeping that pashmina on because she wasn’t intending on staying long?

Tom groaned and clenched his fists, attempting to get a grip on his nerves. He needed to stop thinking worst case scenarios.

_He needed to stop second guessing, full stop!_

That was what had gotten him in trouble with Grace countless times already!

_No!_

He _needed_ to be calm.

Puffing out a breath, Tom quickly located two of his fanciest glasses and a bottle of wine.

He could do this!

He _had_ to do this. His gut told him this really was his last chance…

Meanwhile, Grace stood awkwardly, surveying Tom’s quirky lounge. As an avid reader her gaze naturally fell to his expansive bookshelf, and like a moth drawn to a flame that was where Tom found her as he finally reappeared with an open bottle of Shiraz and two large glasses easily cradled in those huge hands of his.

Sensing his presence behind her, Grace turned and looked up to find Tom closer than she’d anticipated, staring down at her with a gentle, yet unreadable smile.

Her heart fluttered as she took a deep breath, a waft of his citrusy aftershave causing her to stifle a moan of pleasure.

_He always smelled so damn good!_

Her fingers twitched as she fought the urge to forget all about talking and just grab hold of that soft shirt and rub her nose against him, inhaling him and then never letting him go.

But they had to talk. For too long they’d avoided talking. Avoiding the hurt, the miscommunication, the raw feelings and many, _many_ questions…

Grace finally broke the silence, motioning towards the bookcase “You have a wonderful collection…”

She immediately groaned internally at her still breathy voice. _Get it together woman! You’re screwing this all up!_

“It’s not bad is it?” Tom nodded as he considered his prized possessions, and more than happy to include Grace in that assessment, even if she wasn’t truly his. _At least not yet…_

“I’ve built it up over many years, there are some pretty rare volumes that I’m particularly proud of amongst them”

They both stared at the books for a few moments longer, before Tom again snapped to his senses and moved to the coffee table to pour the wine. Grace remained at the bookcase, her small fingers gliding along the volumes reverently as she read their titles.

“Here” Tom’s voice again was close and it made Grace jump as she turned to find him offering her a glass.

She took it gratefully, her fingertips fleetingly grazing Tom’s and causing a surge of electricity to flow throughout her synapses.

Tom had felt it too. The build-up of kinetic energy inside his shaking hands - suddenly having an outlet - forcing a gasp from his thin lips as he released the breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding in.

They both took a slow sip of wine, seemingly debating how the hell to start what was looking ever more like the conversation from hell. It was Grace who finally broke the silence yet again.

“I… I’m sorry for running away Tom. I was… I guess I was just… scared…” she was still staring resolutely at the books, her hand gripping the stem of the wine glass so tightly that she was in danger of breaking the fine crystal. But right now it was her anchor. She needed to hold onto something.

_If not, she’d likely grab hold of Tom!_

“No… Grace, you don’t _ever_ have to apologise for being scared. I’m the one who should be sorry. I was the one who ran away!” Tom shifted closer and Grace turned her head just enough to see him vehemently shaking his head as he counted the times off on his free hand “Back to Oxford… then Cambridge… every time I fobbed you off while I was studying or working… Then I ran away from you in India, when… when you had been _so_ brave, trying to talk to me… and then, even last week…” his sad voice trailed off, before he suddenly looked directly at Grace “Although I _did_ come back!”

 _“W… what? When?”_ Grace finally turned to face Tom, her watery eyes wide.

“I came back Grace… I only went outside last week because… well, because I was fucking disgusted at myself for what I’d put you through!” Tom closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. When he opened them again he watched Grace’s flushed, confused face as he continued.

“I was… I _am_ a coward…” he sighed “I couldn’t bear hearing the pain in your voice when I was away at university. I… _was_ busy Grace, please don’t think I wasn’t. The acting work really had been picking up and because of that I was burning the midnight oil trying to catch up at uni all the time…and I was exhausted _all_ the time… but I _should_ have made more time for you! And I _should_ have realised that when you kept calling me it was because you needed me!”

Tom inhaled a stuttering breath as he tried to compose himself. He’d promised himself if he ever got this opportunity – _and frankly he’d pretty much given up hope over the last few days_ – he would be strong.

For Grace’s sake. This was _her_ pain after all. _Her_ grief. Not his! He would not run away from what needed to be said any longer.

“I left a note for you in India with my number. I don’t know if you just didn’t get it, or if you were still so pissed off with me that you threw it away. I can’t blame you for that… But I _should_ have tried harder to get back in contact with you. I failed you Grace. I failed you as a friend. I failed you as your… your _boyfriend_ … and I failed you as a man”

Grace’s eyes, glossy with tears, widened and she opened her mouth to speak but Tom gently silenced her with a flick of his hand.

“Please just let me finish Grace. Then I promise I will listen to _everything_ you need to say, and _I will not run away_. Regardless of whatever you need to say to me… No matter how hard it might be to hear. Not this time…”

Grace bit down on her lip and nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for Tom to continue.

_Oh God! He sounded so defeated. Had… Had she left it too long? Had Luke been wrong all along?_

Tom’s low, deep voice brought her out of her panicked thoughts and she listened in growing despair.

“Grace… _I am so sorry_. From the depths of my heart, I am so sorry that I put you through all that pain. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me the most, _damn it,_ I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you for the last seventeen years sweetheart! I should have been! You are one of my oldest friends and I would do anything to go back and undo all the pain. I would never have tried to m… make you… make you mine… If… if I’d known how much pain you would go through, _because of me_. I would do anything for you Grace! I just wish I could have been able to stop you having to go through all this... But, more than anything, I wish I’d been there for you in hospital… to hold your hand, to hold _you_ … but I fucked up! I… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that…”

Tom took a stuttering breath as he felt the tears pour down his sharp cheekbones. But he didn’t wipe them away. He needed to feel them. He _deserved_ to feel them.

 _He deserved to feel - even what was only a tiny percentage of - the unimaginable pain he’d put Grace through_.

“Oh Tom!” Grace sniffled as grief, anger at her own childish stubbornness, and an overwhelming sense of relief suddenly washed over her as she realised there had never been anyone else at university. That Tom had simply been working hard – _probably too hard_ – but only working to catch up! She couldn’t be mad at him for that any longer! He’d always been a hard worker! And he’d tried to talk to her in India? How had she missed him? How had she missed the note?

Her heart ached at the thought of how different the last seven years – _much less the last seventeen years!_ \- might have been…

“It’s not your fault! I made it hard to be found Tom…” she finally gulped through her tears “and I hid myself… I ran away from your mum’s safe haven when I was at my most vulnerable. Then I hid myself in Edinburgh with the postman’s family who… who found me that… _that day_ …”

Tom gasped at the realisation of what Grace was telling him, and whispered “I came back to Edinburgh at half term but nobody had seen you in weeks… _Oh Grace…”_ he stuttered out a forlorn breath and reached his hand out to Grace but she shook her head. Tom’s touch was far too distracting. She _needed_ to get this out or she might never say it.

“Sshhh… Tom, it’s not your fault, okay? We both were young, foolish… We can’t go back. We can only go forward now… But please don’t say you wished we didn’t… wished we hadn’t… _you know_ … Because I’m _so_ glad it was you…”

Sheer utter dismay was etched across Tom’s striking features as he tried to digest what Grace was saying.

So glad what was him? _The reason for all her pain?_ Even the mere thought felt like a dagger to his heart. Was she saying that because it made it easier for her to walk away now? _Oh God, please no! Not again…_

“Oh God! And I’m sorry I smacked you! I’ve never hit _anyone_ before… or _since_ for that matter…” Grace suddenly interrupted Tom’s internal dialogue.

“No! Don’t you dare apologise for that. I deserved that! I immediately jumped to conclusions about… about the…I... I thought you were trying to tell me the… _the_ _baby_ …” Tom whispered the word reverentially, sad tears still seeping from his now red eyes “could have beenhis...your ex?  _Whatshisname?”_

Grace abruptly guffawed until she noticed Tom’s hurt expression, his blue eyes stormy with more tears.

“No Tom... We... Joe and I... Oh God! This is so embarrassing...” Grace looked down at her hands. Even now, even after everything she’d been through, it still smarted that Joe had lied to her, and she sighed heavily.

“We never did anything. He was cheating on me all the time we were together” she muttered.

Tom was flabbergasted by this new revelation and immediately found himself quizzing Grace, “Wow! Really? Did you know? How did you find out?” before he suddenly regretted feeling so triumphant, watching as Grace’s face grew redder and redder as embarrassment flooded her cheeks.

“No! I… I _thought_ he loved me…”

Tom bristled at the unspoken inference that Grace perhaps thought she’d loved that man back, but he tempered his jealousy as she continued.

“I thought he was just being old-fashioned and was being respectful, y’know? Like he wanted to wait…”

Confusion fell over Tom’s face then.

“But… we… you and I? We… we slept together _really_ quickly Grace! Well, discounting the first fourteen years we knew each other of course!” Tom attempted a joke but it fell flat as his eyes clouded “Did… did you think I was being disrespectful then?”

“No!” Grace gasped out “God no Tom! What we had back then… It was…” her eyes glazed over dreamily “It was really _special_ …”

Tom heaved a sigh of relief and they both stood for a moment, sipping their wine as they each silently reminisced.

But then the cogs started to turn in Tom’s head again and he looked down at Grace, his eyes growing wide as he blustered “Wait! _Hang on a minute_...”

“ _Does that mean...?”_

Grace's cheeks burned as she shuffled from foot to foot, unable to speak and seemingly wanting the ground to swallow her up as she realised Tom had finally put two and two together.

But Tom wasn't prepared to let this go.

"Grace...?"

"Hmm?" she took another long sip of her wine, the artwork around the lounge suddenly becoming very interesting.

"Was... was I your first? Was... was that night in the playhouse your first time as well?!"

Grace couldn't bring herself to say the words so she just nodded, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Oh baby!” Tom gasped automatically, reverting to his term of endearment for Grace in the light of such news. His heart swelled at the realisation that they’d both been each other’s first lover, before a sadness suddenly enveloped him at the realisation that Grace had never felt confident enough to tell him herself.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I… I must have hurt you that first time? You… you never said a thing, you just let me pound into you like… like a piece of meat!” Tom’s eyes stung with fresh tears as he recalled their first coupling now with distaste “Oh God! Is _that_ why you really run away the following morning?”

“No!” Grace exclaimed, inhaling a deep breath and trying to push away her embarrassment “No Tom… It… it was a tiny bit uncomfortable…”

Tears started to fall down Tom’s cheek at that admission and he covered his mouth in self-disgust, but Grace shook her head “but I wanted it _so_ badly… I wanted someone to make love to me. To make me feel special, to make me feel like I was desirable to them. Because Joe had made me feel so undesirable every time he turned my advances down - of course, I understand why now! But back then it just made me feel like shit Tom. Like I was even more worthless. And I didn’t want that anymore. I needed to feel _something_ other than that I was completely worthless I guess...”

Grace’s voice trailed off as she realised she too was crying.

“Don’t you ever say that again! Don’t you _ever_ say you’re worthless Grace! Because you’re not! Not to me! Not to my sisters! Not to my parents! Not to those people who took you in! Not to anyone whose life you light up just by being there…” Tom was growing angry now.

_How could she still think that of herself?_

She was worth ten of him… No! A thousand! A million! He wanted to spend the rest of his life trying to be a better man _because_ of her! But most importantly, _with_ her…

And so, with tearstained cheeks, and a heart full of remorse and admiration Tom asked the question he was most scared of hearing the answer to.

“Grace… do… do you think there's any chance we could try again? I mean properly, like a real couple?”

Grace’s mouth hung open for the longest time and Tom immediately assumed the worst – his heart thumping so loudly he was certain she could hear it in the silence - but when she finally gathered her thoughts and spoke, he was baffled by her response.

“But Tom! I’m not strong! Or successful! Why the hell would you want to be with me?”

“What?!”

“Tom… look at you! You’re one of the most desirable men in the world! Why the fuck do you want to be with a screw up like me? I eat microwaveable meals on my own in my pyjamas while you’re probably out eating fancy meals with celebrities! I sit marking nine and ten year old's attempts at iambic pentameters while you live and breathe Shakespeare and garner rave reviews for it! I just don’t fit in your world... _not anymore!”_

The stinging truth of her words hit Grace hard and she couldn’t even bring herself to look at Tom.

“Dear God! Grace, firstly I don't equate fame or so called 'success' with being strong. _You_ are the strongest woman I have ever met. The things you have been through. What I have put you through..." he sighed "how your parents treated you. But you got back up and made a difference in the world. The world is better because you are in it! And bloody hell Grace. Success means nothing if I have no one to share it with! And if I can't share it with the woman I _love_. The woman I've _always_  loved... what even is the point, really?”

“And just look at you. You're still here. You're as beautiful – No! Even more so - than I ever remembered. And believe me Grace, I thought about you… _a lot!”_

"Well... I... I tried not to think about you. I really did” Grace sniffled, her self-sabotaging nature never far from the surface “I dated…”

Tom frowned but bit his tongue as she suddenly slammed down her glass and continued “I tried my best to move on Tom. From what I don't even fucking know anymore! Do you realise that in the past seventeen years we've actually only really been together for about two weeks? How bloody ridiculous is that? Why am I _still_ madly in love with you? And yes.... The fucking emphasis is on _madly_... I get that. I _am_ a mad, crazy bitch!”

“What did you just say?”

“What?" Grace’s brow furrowed “that I'm crazy? Oh Thomas… sweetheart! Surely you’ve realised that by now!”

“You... you... you said… you said you're ‘ _in love’_ with me? _Still..._? What? When? How... _how_ long?”

Tom was spluttering questions at Grace at an alarming speed, and finally the cogs began to turn in Grace’s mind and she realised her faux-pas. She’d always vowed that she would never admit to her long repressed love for Tom. It served no other purpose than to inflict even more pain on the man.

_She’d hurt him enough over the years._

Yet Grace couldn’t think of a single damn thing to say in response. She was scared of what else she might reveal if she continued talking so she bit down hard on her bottom lip and simply listened as Tom resumed his confused diatribe.

“But why didn't you just tell me all this back then Grace? Or even while we were in India?” Tom's face crumpled as he remembered the vile inferences he’d made the day they’d argued.

“I would have been there for you! I would have looked after you!” Great big tears started to fall from his hurt eyes as the true picture of the ordeal Grace had been through, her own lovesickness and his own sorry part in it all finally became crystal clear “I… I still want to…”

“I couldn't have done that to you Tom! It would have messed up your life too! You were doing so well. Had such high hopes for - _still_ have such high hopes for - the future! I couldn't ruin your life as well.... And I was right! Look how well you've done without me in your life. I would only have dragged you down, crushed your dreams... just like I crushed your heart” Grace’s voice trailed off, her long repressed emotions overwhelming her.

There was complete silence in the room, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall behind them.

It was ironic really. Their interactions together always seemed to be governed by time. There was always a palpable time limit before some fresh hell would be unleashed to drag them apart in some traumatic way.

That thought spooked Grace once again and she suddenly came to her senses.

_Why had she really come here?_

Grace knew what she had to do. It was what she always did in this situation. Only this time it would truly be the final time. It was for the best. At least now Tom knew everything. He could finally move on, knowing he wasn’t to blame. That it was all her stupid, selfish fault.

“Tom… we hurt each other every time we get together. I don't think I can survive another break up... I can't do it Tom. And I _won't_ do it to you again... I don’t want to hurt you again. And I… my body is fucked Tom. I doubt I can ever give you what you always used to dream of… What you wanted most… I… I don’t think…”

Grace’s frail voice trailed off as she shakily wiped at her tear streaked face in frustration. Tom’s heart hurt to see such torment on her pretty face and he laid down his own glass, hoping to comfort her.

But still Grace continued with her denial.

"Please Tom. If you have _ever_ loved me, please just let me go. I _will_ hurt you again, not because I want to, but because it’s just who I am… I always let people down… and I can't bear the thought of doing that to you! Not again… _Please._ Just let me go..." she started to turn away to leave.

“No!” Tom shouted resolutely.

“Not this time Grace!”

Tom grabbed Grace’s arm, this time as gently as he possibly could whilst still ensuring she would not escape. He stared down through his own tearful eyes, seeing the same turmoil reflected in her own and he knew. He knew he would not rest until she understood that they were meant to be together. The only reason they hurt each other was because they both kept running from the other.

It was time for them _both_ to stop running.

Tom pleaded wordlessly with his eyes as Grace let out a stuttering sigh and looked down at her feet. He released her arm, instead sliding his trembling hand down to her shaking one, and lacing his fingers through hers.

Tom attempted to pull her closer. Yet still Grace resisted him.

“But… but I got over you! I built myself a life” she sniffled unconvincingly then whispered “I… I got over you…”

“I know” Tom soothed, his heart hurting to hear her torment “And I am so proud of what you’ve accomplished after everything you went through… everything I put you through…”

He sighed deeply.

“But I will say this - and please don’t take this as me being conceited or anything of that nature darling, because _trust me_ when I say that I am _shamefully_ aware of my shortcomings, of which there are _many_ \- I don’t think you _are_ over me Grace, God, at least I hope not!”

Tom’s other hand tentatively reached out for Grace and this time she allowed him to pull her into his body. He lowered his mouth to her ear, determined not to be distracted by her proximity - _intoxicating as it was_ \- until he made her grasp what he was saying.

He _had_ to make her understand.

He could feel her heart racing against his own pounding chest and paused for a moment, breathing slowly and whispering soothing words until he could feel her cardiac rhythm slow, finally almost matching his own.

Her body had almost melted into his and his fingers begged to touch her properly but he fought to focus.

“Grace… baby... Trust me, I know what I’m talking about here. I’d moved on too… _or so I’d thought_. But the moment I saw you again I knew I had to have you. I knew I had to be with you…”

“Fuck! That sounds like all I’m thinking about is sex but I promise you Grace, it’s not! Christ, it is _so_ much more than sex… I swear! I _love_ you Grace… _and you love me!_ And if you will have me then I will spend the rest of my life making up to you all the days that we missed being together… I know you're saying you’ve moved on, but if I don't say this I'll regret it for the rest of my life...." Tom paused, tears streaming down his handsome face as, in barely more than a whisper, he croaked "You always _were_ , and _always will be_ the love of my life...”

“I… I just don’t understand how someone can love someone who can’t even love themselves?" Grace sighed "Maybe that’s what I should be concentrating on? Maybe instead of loving _you_ so much I should take a step back... _be_ myself, without all this baggage! Learn to love me first....?” 

 _“Grace...”_ Tom’s tone was pleading now, but she continued on blindly.

“And you should love _you!_ And you should be free too...”

“Goddamnit Grace! I don’t _want_ to be fucking free! How many times do I have to tell you? I want _you!_ _Only_ you… And I know, despite all your protests to the contrary that _you_ want me, so why must you keep denying it?” he sighed “How many years have we wasted denying it? And how many more are you willing to waste before you _finally_ come to your senses and give yourself to me the way I would _gladly_ give myself to you in a heartbeat? You can keep dancing around it, going back and forth with this dizzying waltz of love and doubt for as long as you want, but there _will_ come a point in time when you’ll find yourself on a deserted dancefloor, and you’ll wonder why you are alone… _Please Grace!_ Don’t make me find someone else to dance with… I’m _begging_ you! I don’t want you to be there alone…”

** **

_“Because_ _I only want to dance with you…”_

“You want… you want to _dance_ with me?” Grace’s head was swimming with emotion and confusion, and she found herself verbalising her trepidation.

_Oh Christ! Yes!_

Grace gasped.

And then Tom realised he'd said it aloud.

Before she could argue, Tom pulled Grace's hands up and draped them around his neck, wrapping his own around her waist and pressing himself against her sumptuous body. As he did so the pashmina she had been clinging to like some sort of security blanket slipped off her shoulders and floated down to the floor.

To the haunting melody of [Bon Iver](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6rAmBt8xPs) they clung to one another, exhausted minds and overheated bodies combined, as Tom sang softly in Grace’s ear:  

 

 

> **_"_   _This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization_**
> 
> **_It’s the sound of the unlocking and the lift away_ **
> 
> **_Your love will be_ **
> 
> **_Safe with me”_ **

As the song came to an end, Tom’s lips hovered against Grace’s earlobe, before whispering “I want you wrapped in my arms, dancing our way through life _together_ Grace.”

“But… But I’m a hopeless dancer…!” Grace breathlessly stuttered, not sure any longer if either of them were even talking about dancing anymore – or if they had _ever_ been for that matter.

“Oh darling I know!” Tom couldn’t contain a low chuckle, and it reverberated through their bodies. “But don’t you see? That’s why we fit together so perfectly. There are so many things that _you_ can do that I have absolutely no hope of ever being able to accomplish, but just by being in your presence some of that goodness radiates my way and you make me a better man… And if it’s not too _hubristic_ to say it, I hope in some small way I might be able to make you a better woman?”

Grace quirked an eyebrow, her lips finally turning up at the corners into a small smile as Tom acknowledged the insult she’d thrown at him back at the UNICEF party.

As they pulled away ever so slightly from one another so that Grace could properly see up to Tom’s face, she was somewhat surprised to see the ravenous look that had clouded his earnest eyes.

That is, until she followed his gaze down to her newly revealed décolleté.

Her cheeks flushed again as she realised she’d shed her pashmina at some point while they were dancing and she immediately felt bare, trying to obscure the fleshy distractions as she pushed herself back against his chest. Unfortunately that only served to make Tom groan as his eyes raked over her, watching the barely contained swell of her breasts press against the soft cotton of his shirt.

In response, Grace moaned, the shirt tickling her now hyper aware skin.

Tom ran one hand up from her waist and stroked the back of her neck, feeling the goosebumps prickle on Grace’s soft skin in response to his languid touch.

He leant his neck back then, watching Grace closely, and intent on garnering her attention.

Grace meanwhile was biting down hard on her lip as she resolutely stared straight ahead at his chest. It wasn’t her best plan, she very quickly realised, as she noticed that up close, the buttons were waging war on their buttonholes in their valiant pursuit of freedom. Through the gaping fabric, Grace found herself staring at taut, tanned, freckled skin and she felt a throb somewhere distinctly south. Factoring in that the tip of her nose was now also brushing against the soft cotton - _her nostrils filling with his intoxicating aftershave and combining with Tom’s natural scent_ – and it was quite possibly one of the worst plans she’d ever come up with, and there had been _a lot_ of those over the years!

When _finally_ Grace’s eyelashes fluttered upwards, Tom’s heart swelled as her innocent yet beguiling eyes warily looked up into his own.

Tom’s eyes flitted from hers to her plump lips, to where her heaving breasts were crushed against his torso and back again, like a hungry predator deliberating his next move.

Grace took a deep gulp, inadvertently releasing her half chewed lip in the process. Tom dragged his own bottom lip slowly through his clenched teeth, his eyes still wandering back and forth in silent deliberation.

Under his gaze, Grace was silently squirming as she tried desperately not to look directly into Tom’s lustful eyes, instead focusing on the centre of his face.

His nostrils flared with every deep breath he took before finally he seemed to come to a decision.

The hand which had been gently stroking the back of Grace’s sleek neck tenderly slipped round to cup her burning cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing the damp, heated skin before tilting Grace’s chin up so their eyes met.

Grace’s eyes betrayed her need and Tom leant closer, his breathe ghosting her lips as he sought consent. With a gulp, she overtly licked her bottom lip, as if in anticipation and before either of them knew what was happening Tom’s lips were on hers.

It was a tentative kiss. Triumphant yet nervous - _shy even_ \- considering all that they had been through over the years, but it quickly developed into something much more heated.

Tom trailed one hand down the arch her back, the soft satin dress and the heat from his palm sending goosebumps up and down her spine, before resting on her hip. His other hand continued to cup her cheek as he languidly pushed his tongue between her pink lips and groaned into her hot, wet mouth.

Grace replied with her own moan as her tongue danced with Tom’s, her own hands wandering down from his neck to his deliciously round arse, delighting in the hard musculature she discovered on the way.

The hand that Tom had been resting on Grace’s hip slowly continued its own journey down to her bum - as if to warn her _‘two can play that game’_ \- and with another muffled groan Tom squeezed it indulgently as they continued their caress.

Finally they broke free, just enough to inhale some much needed air.

Tom’s eyes, dark with desire, stared into Grace’s limpid pools, and he rubbed his nose against hers.  

“God I’ve missed you!” he groaned against her lips.

“I’ve missed you more…” Grace sighed in surrender.

Wordlessly, her hands slid up between them and her splayed fingers stroked the soft cotton fabric covering Tom’s solid chest. Tom growled, his heart quickening under her quietly confident touch but when Grace started unbuttoning his shirt he abruptly stopped her.

Grace looked up at him in anxious confusion but Tom silenced her momentarily with another kiss, before voicing his very real fear.

“I just… I want… I _need_ this to be real Grace. _Please?_ Tell me… Tell me this is really happening. Tell me this is not just another dream!”

Grace smiled then in relief and nodded before whispering “No… this is real! If… If you’ll have me…”

Tom kissed her frantically then, his hands roaming everywhere from her bum to her hair and back again before he stopped once more and tried to control himself.

“I will! I do… _Oh God I will!_ I don't want you thinking I _just_  want sex though... I mean, I _do_  want to make love to you... I want that _so_ badly baby... but... Christ...” Tom’s voice trailed off as he fought some inner turmoil, tipping his head back towards the ceiling and running his sweating hand over his burning face.

“Thomas?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me again!”

Their lips crashed together this time as Tom guided her backwards, his hands now firmly gripping her ass as Grace’s trembling fingers finally liberated those two belligerent factions of his shirt, accompanied by stifled grunts as they collided with the bookcase.

Their mouths pulled apart just long enough for Tom to check that Grace was unhurt, her response a feverish nod of the head as her hands slid to his belt and fly.

Finding him hot, rock hard and completely naked underneath the soft denim, Grace groaned as she freed his cock, her small hand barely able to contain his thickened girth.

Tom hissed in response to Grace’s touch, his lips reluctantly leaving hers as she started to gently stroke his cock. He frantically trailed kisses down her neck and along her collar bone, revelling in the sweet scent of her skin before pulling his head back to stare longingly at her impressive breasts, licking his lips as he imagined sucking her barely contained nipples.

Meanwhile Grace was still stroking his cock and Tom realised if he didn’t do something, _and fast_ , he faced the real danger of coming in her hand.

And that was something he had _no_ intention of doing. _Not today anyway_ …

Today he needed to feel Grace coming around him as he buried himself deep inside her beautiful body.

With a sudden burst of determination, Tom’s hand slid down between Grace’s thighs, and felt her damp, silk clad heat.

Grace’s hand slowed and she moaned distractedly as Tom’s fingers stroked up and down the readily moistening silk barrier, her lower lips swelling in response as she began to wriggle needily.

“Oh God, Tom!” Grace gasped as he continued his wicked torment, and threw her head back, exposing her neck to Tom’s lascivious tongue once more. He leaned over her, his hot mouth ghosting her damp skin as he contemplated where to taste first, finally settling on one of her breasts.

“Mmm…” Tom hummed against her warm skin, his nose nuzzling and drawing out her nipple from the flimsy confines of her dress, before tracing the pebbled areola with the tip of his tongue.

Grace moaned wildly and Tom’s hand slid up from between her legs to the top of her knickers before slipping inside and cupping her mound. Grace’s own hand had all but stopped moving around Tom’s cock as she lost herself in the sensation of his mouth wrapping around her taut nipple while his long fingers slowly parted her soaked folds and pushed deep inside.

The howl that erupted from Grace’s pretty pink mouth was almost deafening, but all it achieved was to make Tom determined to hear it again… _and again!_ He started to thrust his fingers, using the heel of his hand to cup her mound as he found that rough spot deep inside and repeatedly tapped it.

Grace’s breathing came hard and fast now and she reluctantly released Tom’s cock, needing to stabilise her shaking legs.

Using her now free hand for leverage, Grace raised her arm up high and clung to the bookshelf behind her as Tom continued to tap out that exquisitely intimate rhythm deep inside her pulsating pussy.

Tom’s lips pulled away from her breast, his teeth gently raking over her achingly taut bud as he did so. Then his lips came back up to hers as he breathed against her panting lips, their hot breath mingling as he felt her walls tighten around his fingers.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? I want you to come… I want you to come all over my hand baby. Then I’m going to fuck you… I’m going to sink my cock inside your tight little pussy… where it belongs… where it’s _always_ belonged!”

_“Oh… Fuck…Tom…”_

“I want to feel how wet you are for me… not just with my fingers, but with my cock Grace. I want to see you stretched wide around me like I’ve only been able to dream about for seven _long_ fucking years baby…. _and then_ …” Tom panted, watching in awe as Grace’s hips bucked hard against his hand as she desperately sought out her release “then when I’ve fucked you hard – and I _am_ going to fuck you hard Grace - I’m going to lay you down on my bed and make sweet love to each and every delicious inch of your body, and I am _never_  going to let you go again…”

“Ugh… Tom… _Fuck_ …. Oh God! _Yes_ … _Oh fuck yes!!”_ Grace’s orgasm soared through her like a bullet and she gushed over Tom’s hand, her legs trembling so badly she would have crumpled to the ground had it not been for Tom’s strong hand gripping her waist.

“Christ Grace! _Fuck_ that was hot!” Tom growled, sucking on his soaked fingers as he watched Grace’s dazed eyes slowly come back to his, then kissing her hard, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Grace moaned in response and fumbled for his now almost purple, leaking cock but Tom took her wandering hand and slid it to his shoulder, growling “you’re gonna want to hold on baby. I need to be inside you… _now!_ And this is going to be hard and fast…”

Before Grace even had time to process Tom’s words she was being lifted up, her back still pressed against the bookcase but buffered by one of Tom’s hands as his other guided her to wrap her still shaking legs around his torso. And then she was being lowered towards her nirvana…

The sensation of being stretched wide as she sank down onto Tom’s thick cock was almost overwhelming, and one which Grace thought she would never have the pleasure of feeling ever again. So she relished every single inch of initial discomfort until her body relaxed enough to accommodate him fully.

It had been a long time since she’d been this intimate with anyone, and even longer since she’d been with Tom.

_But by Christ! It was as good – no… better – than she had ever remembered!_

Tom urgently started to bounce her hard on his cock, his teeth gritted, his eyes almost feral as he grunted hard. Sweat poured down his face and exposed neck and Grace found herself mesmerised by the taut muscles under the thin skin of his neck as they clenched and shifted with every grunt and movement of his body. He reminded her of a finely tuned racehorse, all leanly roped muscle and veins rippling under smooth, soft skin.

She suddenly had the most overwhelming urge to lick him.

So that’s exactly what she did…

The accompanying moans that escaped her hot wet lips as she trailed her soft tongue along the column of Tom’s neck set a fire deep inside his belly, and he thrust wildly, one hand urgently rubbing at Grace’s already stimulated clit as he growled into her hair.

“Oh Christ! _Fuck Grace_ … you’re gonna make me come! I… oh fuck! Yes…yes! _Yes!”_

Without any further warning Tom exploded inside Grace, his hips continuing to thrust erratically as his talented fingers brought Grace to her second earth shattering climax in as many minutes.

Once the lovers had slowly come down from their high, Tom carried Grace - still connected in the most intimate way possible, and jeans still pooled around his ankles - towards what she assumed must be his bedroom, to make good on his earlier promise.

For the briefest second doubt crept back into her mind about how quickly things had once again escalated between them, but as Tom opened the door, revealing his bathroom she couldn’t help the serene smile which formed on her kiss bruised lips as he crooned in her ear.

“I know I said I was going to take you straight to bed but I’m sweating like the proverbial pig in this heat! Fancy sharing a quick shower with me first? For old time’s sake baby?”

“Mmm…okay…” Grace mumbled sleepily, the mix of post coital endorphins, the warm air and the deliciously hot body she was still so intimately wrapped around feeling so overwhelmingly good against her own sweating skin that it was making her close to nodding off.

_If she was going to get through the rest of what Tom was planning, a shower would probably be a good idea to wake her up!_

Tom gently crouched, and sat Grace down on the edge of the bath, them both sighing as his now flaccid cock slipped out of her. He flicked on the shower, then kicked off his jeans from around his ankles, sending them flying across the sleek tiled floor in his impatience.

Thank God for no stairs, he silently smiled to himself, imagining having to climb them in their previous state. But as he shrugged off his shirt and turned back towards Grace, all humour left him as he saw a look of pure lust fill her previously sleepy eyes as she raked them over his now naked body.

Grace gasped at the man stood in front of her. If she’d thought Tom had packed on the muscle last time she’d seen him naked, it was _nothing_ compared to the fine specimen now stood before her, his eyebrow raising as a small smirk began to form on his thin lips.

Tom’s once broad but lean shoulders were now thicker, and roped with taut muscle, his biceps elegantly defined. His calves, always long - _so fucking long_ – and perfectly attuned to running mile upon tortuous mile, were still slender. His thighs however, had filled out impressively, matching the musculature of his upper body. But it was the impressive six pack and ridiculously sexy V of Tom’s iliac furrow - _pointing south to heaven_ \- that made her jaw drop.

Christ! She’d always joked to herself about Tom’s body being like a marbled work of art, but now he was an actual living, breathing Adonis. _With the belt to match!_

“I take it I pass muster?” Tom coughed in amusement. 

Grace struggled to find the words to adequately articulate her appreciation, so once again she merely nodded.

However, no sooner had she acknowledged this, her own self-doubt crept in once more. She suddenly felt unworthy of the man before her, her damaged body no competition for the perfect women Tom must be accustomed to being around now that he mixed with the higher echelons of society.

It was this realisation that caused her smile to fade, the hunger in her eyes with it, as she looked instead down at the tiled floor, her hands fidgeting anxiously with the rumpled hem of her dress.

Tom noticed the sudden change in Grace's demeanour and panic began to rise in his belly. Was he not what she’d expected now he was naked? Was he no longer desirable to her? He knew he was in good shape, but he was never going to be what women described a ‘hunk’. His body simply wasn’t built that way. That was more his mate Hemsworth’s style. And it hadn’t been for want of trying that he’d come to this realisation. When he’d auditioned for the lead role in Thor he’d tried packing on the muscle. But it simply wasn’t in his DNA to reach Chris’s proportions. He was fine with that, and from what he remembered, it had never seemed to bother Grace before, but as she looked away from him, the hunger leaving her eyes, she suddenly seemed – _for want of a better word_ – disappointed in what she saw.

He paused directly in front of her, brushing his thumb along his lower lip in contemplation. Sadly, he realised, there was no way around it. He’d vowed he would be completely open and honest with Grace. He was going to have to bite the bullet and potentially take a hit. It seemed so cruel to have come _this_ far to be rejected, but he _had_ to know.

“Grace… baby? What’s wrong? I… I know I’m not ripped or anything but-”

“What?!” Grace looked up in shock, getting an eyeful of cock before quickly looking away again, and Tom raised an eyebrow in confusion.

_What the hell was going on?_

“Grace?”

Grace sighed heavily and worried her lip. He was _really_ going to make her say it, wasn’t he?

“Tom… you’re… you’re perfect! No. You’re more than perfect! You’re like a bloody piece of art…” Grace’s voice trailed off as she allowed herself another quick glance at those abs but schooled her eyes away from Tom’s penetrating, and admittedly confused, stare.

“Eh?” Tom was flattered, relieved, and yet still confused as hell “I mean… thank you love! I wouldn’t describe myself _quite_ like that, but if that’s the case why are you suddenly acting like I repulse you?”

Tom’s voice was soft as he finished and Grace heard the sadness in his tone. With a heavy sigh she finally looked up into his hurt eyes and shook her head.

“You don’t repulse me Tom. Quite the opposite! But… but…” she sighed again and gestured down to her still clothed body “I can’t compete…”

“ _Compete?!_ Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” Tom gasped as the realisation of Grace’s words began to filter through and he knelt down in front of her, trying to keep her eyes on his own.

“Grace Wallace-Stanley! I want you to look at me and listen _very_ carefully. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known…”

Grace tried to look away but Tom entwined one hand with her fidgeting fingers and lifted his other hand to her chin, cupping it and forcing her to face him.

 “ _‘Hear my soul speak._

_The very instant that I saw you did_

_My heart fly to your service, there resides_

_To make me slave to it…’_ ”

“And nothing – _Nothing,_ _do you hear me Grace?_ \- has changed in those _thirty one years!_ You always were, _and always will be_ , the most beautiful woman in any room. And not just on the outside, though trust me when I say this… your beauty is incandescent! But more than that Grace, you light up the world with your smile, your heart, your kindness, your bravery…” Tom’s voice grew husky as it trailed off.

Grace was overwhelmed by Tom’s heartfelt declaration and tears started to trickle down her cheeks at the truth of what he was telling her. Could it be that this wonderful, handsome man truly believed that? About _her?_  

In silent answer, Tom leant forward and grazed his lips gently across her own, savouring the taste of the woman he loved more than anything in this world on his lips. Then his hands fell to her feet, tenderly removing the strappy stilettos from her petite feet and sliding his big hands back up the back of Grace’s calves, massaging away the tension he could feel there.

Tom’s touch elicited a moan of pleasure from Grace’s parted lips and as his hands brushed up over the hem of her dress, settling onto her waist, he pulled her upright with himself so that they both stood before one another, one naked, the other soon to be.

_“You…”_

Tom leant down - the height distance now marked without Grace’s heels – and kissed one bare shoulder.

_“Are…”_

Tom kissed Grace’s other shoulder.

_“The…”_

His fingers pushed down the thin straps of her dress.

_“Most…”_

Another kiss, this time to the exposed swell of her left breast.

_“Beautiful…”_

Followed by her right breast.

_“Most…”_

His confident hand slowly pulled down the zipper of Grace’s dress.

_“Precious…”_

A low moan escaped his lips as the delicate fabric slid down Grace’s sensuous curves, pooling at her feet and revealing her almost completely naked body finally to him.

_“Creature…”_

One hand gently cupped her now naked left breast.

_“To me…”_

And finally Tom’s other hand cupped Grace’s right breast as his lips descended once more on hers in a crushing embrace.

Tom used his voice, his lips, and his hands to show Grace the truth of his words as he pulled her flush against his own naked body, and Grace felt his arousal hard against her soft belly.

Her nerves started to dissipate and she began to believe that Tom truly did find her attractive. This confidence led her to wrap her own hands around Tom’s torso, indulgently squeezing his ass and whispering against his hard chest “thank you…”

“You’re welcome” Tom hummed into her hair “Just know I meant every single word…Now, about that shower? Let’s get it over and done with because I have plans for you darling!”

With that, his hands reached for the waistband of Grace’s knickers, his thumbs hooking inside them and blindly pushing them down before lifting Grace and carrying her to the shower.

Having been running since they entered the bathroom, the huge walk in shower was now dense with steam and so they had to fumble around in search of Tom’s body wash, trying to resist the urge to touch each other too intimately as they quickly washed away the dried tears, sweat and exhaustion which had settled over both their bodies.

“All done?” Tom broke the almost palpable silence as he reached up behind Grace for two of the towels.

“Mmm hmm” Grace nodded, the steam having now settled enough for her to see Tom’s gleaming, wet body through the haze. She licked her lips and Tom caught the act as he stood, offering one of the towels to her.

“Patience sweetheart…” he growled lowly, his own eyes raking over her soft, wet breasts with growing hunger.

Quickly he switched off the shower, and opened the door, watching in disappointment as Grace anxiously wrapped the huge fluffy towel around her body. Tom quickly stepped out behind her, rubbing his own roughly over his wet hair before tying it loosely around his hips.

Grace watched all this, unable to take her eyes off Tom’s unashamedly naked body as his muscles flexed with each practiced action.

Towel looped around his slim waist, that impressive V still clearly visible, along with the fine dusting of hair which led towards something even _more_ impressive, Tom prowled towards Grace - his demeanour quickly switching to that of a lion hunting its prey - and she became mesmerised, watching the rivulets of water still running down his chest and abs.

A whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it and Tom quirked an eyebrow, that same hungry glint they’d both had earlier back in his eyes.

Wordlessly he scooped Grace up and carried her bridal style out of the bathroom and towards another door. Kicking it open, Tom moved effortlessly towards a king sized bed, bedecked in simple yet elegant white bedding, and gently set her down on the middle of the duvet.

Her body was still wrapped in the damp towel, her cheeks flushed with what he hoped was excitement, and as she’d declined the offer of having her hair washed, it remained half pinned up, half a tousled mess, but to Tom, seeing Grace sat on his bed was quite simply a dream come true.

“Lie back baby so I can unwrap you…” he purred and Grace involuntarily shivered at the desire in his richly sonorous voice. She did as Tom asked, scooting back so that her messy hair hit the plush pillows. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as Tom climbed onto the bed alongside her and wondered if he could actually _see_ it thumping through the towel. She knew she was being completely ridiculous. This was hardly either of their first time seeing the other completely naked, they’d literally _just_ shared a shower for goodness sake! And they’d already fucked like rabbits in his lounge! So why did she suddenly feel so incredibly vulnerable?

Maybe it was because Tom had said he was going to worship every inch of her body. There were a lot more inches since they’d last been in a bed together, along with something that could potentially be a passion killer…

Tom must have sensed Grace’s apprehension because he leant down and pressed a chaste kiss to her trembling lips and whispered “I’ve got you Grace… please don’t be scared of me… I won’t hurt you. I promise. Never again…”

Grace’s eyes filled with tears to hear those words from Tom. She would have to make him understand that she _knew_ he wouldn’t, and that she was going to do her utmost to keep the same promise to him.

“I… I know you won’t Tom… Sorry for ruining the mood. I promise you the same though...” her words trailed off as Tom straddled her hips and lowered his head to hers, his lips grazing Grace’s once more. They kissed unhurriedly for several minutes, taking that time to centre themselves with the only thing that mattered in that moment – _each other_ \- and desperately casting away all their doubts and fears.

When the two lovers reluctantly pulled away from one another, a serene calm seemed to have descended over the room. Tom leant back on his haunches, his hands reaching down to where Grace had tucked her towel around her breasts, unaware that in doing so his splayed towel had revealed his once again growing arousal, the warm water from the shower causing Tom’s heavy balls to hang invitingly below.

Grace bit her lip, forcing back a loud moan as memories of how good both his velvety hardness and that ample sack felt encased in her hands and even better, inside her mouth.

Tom meanwhile was concentrating so hard on finally being able to taste every inch of Grace’s breasts that he was oblivious to the show he was inadvertently providing for Grace.

As he peeled back the towel Tom groaned at the sight presented to him. Despite the warm air circulating in the room, Grace’s nipples were already puckered and hard and he pounced on them immediately, laving and sucking each nipple alternately until they were both dark red and taut. Grace moaned in response and this only added to Tom’s enthusiasm, his hands squeezing and massaging her breasts as he reluctantly released the nipple he was sucking long enough to push both breasts together and sink his nose and mouth into the centre, nuzzling the soft skin there.

“So fucking beautiful…” he moaned against her skin, sending goosebumps up Grace’s spine as she finally heard the truth in Tom’s words.

When Tom finally broke away, his lips once again met Grace’s and he hovered there for a moment, their breath mingling as they both panted, before he sunk his tongue back inside her welcoming mouth.

As Tom’s lips reluctantly broke away from her own, Grace’s worries floated away with the butterfly kisses and soft licks he trailed down her jaw and neck, then once more over her still taut nipples and down towards her belly.

Underneath him, Tom felt Grace wriggle as his slight stubble brushed over the silky soft skin of her abdomen.

_God, she really was even more perfect than he remembered!_

But it was as he reached her navel, his nose nuzzling the cute heart shaped depression, that he noticed the writing out of the corner of his eye…  

Tom paused, turning his head and squinting. It looked like a tattoo and his cock twitched at that realisation. Pulling back enough to get a proper look, he read the intricate script curved into the shape of a small heart on Grace’s left hip:

  ** _‘La distancia separa cuerpos no corazones’_**

“Well _that’s_ new!” Tom purred, the tip of one long finger reverently trailing over the intricate text “What does it mean?”

Grace’s cheeks grew even more flushed and she looked away from Tom’s penetrating stare, whispering “ _Distance separates bodies not hearts._ ”

Tom gulped, his finger still tracing out the words, wondering if they could possibly mean what he hoped they meant. But just as he opened his mouth to ask, his hand slipped and he felt a different texture beneath the rough pad of his finger. Looking closer he realised it was the silvery scar from Grace’s ectopic miscarriage that he could feel, the heart-shaped tattoo cocooning the scar tissue like a pair of tiny hands.

Crawling back up to Grace’s face, Tom cupped her cheeks and kissed her hard, emotion overwhelming them both as wordlessly they finally grieved the loss of their baby together for the first time. When finally they pulled apart, Grace’s cheeks were wet with both their tears but she was smiling softly up at Tom, the truth of the words she’d chosen for their baby, also applying to Tom.

_Nothing else mattered now, nothing other than them being together, whether it be in body, mind or spirit. Near or far._

Tom sniffed back his tears, his heart aching for their loss yet paradoxically full to bursting with admiration and pure, unadulterated love for the woman looking up at him now so openly.

“It… It’s…” Tom coughed, his voice thick with emotion “its perfect Grace. It’s beautiful! Just like you…”

He kissed her again, still tenderly but with a growing passion and Grace moaned into his mouth, suddenly needing to feel more of him, touch more of him, stroke more of him…

She managed to pull away from his kiss long enough to gasp out _“Tom?”_

“Yes baby?” Tom panted, his own need now evident as it poked eagerly through the towel.

“ _Make love to me… please?”_ Grace whined, biting down hard on her bottom lip as she saw raw passion sparkling in Tom’s hooded eyes and his generous length impatiently bobbing between his muscled thighs.

Tom rubbed noses with her and cooed “Your wish is my command darling…” before sliding back down her body and reverentially kissing the tattooed heart.

Pushing away that strange twist in his heart, Tom concentrated on showing Grace just how much he adored her.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his lean legs in between Grace’s thighs, forcing her to open them wide for him. With a deep groan, Tom saw just how wet she already was for him. Suddenly starving and desperate to taste the exquisite nectar glistening between her thighs, Tom leant forward on his elbows and used his long fingers to open Grace’s folds wide. His cock throbbed painfully as he stared lustfully up at the woman he loved laid out so openly, all for him.

The first thing Grace felt was the merest whisper of Tom’s warm breathe against her opened centre before he inhaled deeply, so deeply in fact that she began to worry that he'd stopped breathing for a moment and forcing her to check.

But then Tom breathed out, the air from his breath super-heated as it caressed her sensitive pussy and eliciting a low moan of pleasure from Grace's parted lips.

When Tom’s lips finally brushed against her swollen folds, they alternated between maddeningly delicate butterfly kisses on her labia and suckling kisses to her clit as he deftly revealed it from its hood. Each time he changed tactic, Grace would groan loudly, her body trying to meet Tom’s mouth of its own volition and her back arching as she thrust up with each whimper and groan escaping her pretty lips.

And each time she did, Tom would restrain her gently, the palm of one hand splayed gently against her belly as he coaxed her back against the mattress, giving Tom the opportunity to torment her some more.

But it was when Tom suddenly nuzzled her already overstimulated pussy, rubbing his nose against her clit as he plunged that wickedly dextrous tongue deep into her wet heat and began rubbing from left to right and back again that Grace knew she could no longer take it.

“Oh God! Tom… _Tom…!”_

Grace bucked wildly into Tom’s face, shamelessly using the friction from his fine stubble, his talented tongue and his maddeningly positioned nose to build to an earth-shattering climax. Tom’s hand left her belly, giving her more room to manoeuvre and Grace thrust her hips up just in time to eke out the most exquisite climax as her trembling thighs tightened around Tom’s head, keeping him rooted to her pulsating pussy as she flooded his tongue with her release.

_“Thomas!”_

Grace’s voice was almost hoarse with her whimpers as she came down from her orgasm, but it was like music to Tom’s ears and he eagerly licked her clean, savouring every drop of her sweet, tangy nectar.

Satisfied that he’d licked up every drop, Tom knelt up, tugging away his own towel as he looked down at the gorgeous creature lying beneath him, open and ready for his cock. Giving the almost purple head a gentle tug, Tom shifted down so that it was just touching Grace’s nether lips. He rubbed it up and down her silky wetness, eliciting another hoarse whimper from Grace and then slowly began to push into her tight, silken channel.

Grace could feel every ridge, every vein as Tom moved, achingly slowly inside her. His arms shook with the effort of maintaining some semblance of self-control but he _really_ wanted to make this last. _Who knew what would happen tomorrow_. Today, Tom’s _only_ concern was making Grace feel as good as she was making him feel.

"Oh God I've missed this you know... I've missed feeling you tighten around my cock..." Tom grunted as he pushed particularly deep and felt that spontaneous clench of her walls in reply. She always had been responsive, but there was something about this slow rocking motion that always lit a fire deep inside Tom and he knew Grace felt it too as her hands gripped his shoulders, digging crescent shaped marks into his freckled skin as he started to very gently increase the speed.

“I… oh God… yes…. me… I have…” Grace’s garbled response made Tom chuckle, but when Grace clenched hard in response to the vibrations his laughter was sending through her body, he growled and lifted her bum up, positioning each of her legs over the crook of his arms as he started to quicken and deepen his thrusts.  

This new position opened Grace even wider and with every deep thrust of Tom’s cock, his pelvis ground against her already oversensitive clit. Grace made the mistake of watching Tom as he thrust particularly forcefully and the look of pure feral need in his eyes made her clench again, eliciting an animalistic growl as he threw his head back and howled _“You... are... mine... Grace!”_

 _“Yes Thomas!”_ Grace grunted in response.

Tom thrust over and over, repeating his mantra “You... are... fucking... mine.... woman! You... _will_. .. _not_... leave... me... again... do you understand me?... Never... FUCKING… EVER... again!”

And Grace nodded frantically, this dominant declaration of ownership something she hadn’t even realised she’d been craving until she heard the words from Tom’s growling mouth.

She was temporarily unable to form words as she simply allowed herself to be fucked senseless by the only man she had ever truly cared for. The only man who could invoke such powerful emotional responses from both her body and her mind.

 _The only man she had ever loved_.

She felt herself start to contract around Tom’s thick cock as it repeatedly hit that secret place deep inside, the one that only he had ever found. With a loud groan of pleasure she arched her back, responding to his relentless pounding of her pussy, thrust for delicious thrust.

“I… I won’t… I’m going… _Oh God Thomas!_ ” she groaned again “Nowhere…I’m… _fuck_ … I’m going nowhere… _Oh fuck me!_ I am coming though….!” She suddenly snorted with laughter at the timing of her orgasm but as she laughed her walls tightened around Tom’s cock again and he growled, increasing his pace even more.

Grace threw her head back, the laughter evaporating as she felt her body and mind disconnect as the feeling of Tom hurtling towards his own crashing orgasm overwhelmed all her senses.

“Grace… baby! Oh God… Ugh…. Oh fuck…. _Yes!”_

Tom came hard, pumping thick ropes of come inside her still fluttering walls before collapsing on top of her, their hot breath mingling together as they bathed in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

“Oof!” Grace gasped and Tom immediately tried to pull away, realising that yet again he’d lost control and probably hurt her.

_When would he ever learn!_

“No!” Grace’s voice was hoarse from her ecstatic screams but insistent. Her hands snaked down to the plush globes of his sweat soaked arse and she squeezed it, digging her nails possessively into the pale flesh, a groan escaping her own lips as Tom’s cock twitched still deep inside her.

“Don’t you even _dare_ move! I want to feel your weight on me. You’re not going anywhere Mister!”

“But I’m hurting you…” Tom started to protest but Grace cut him off with a breathless kiss.

Reluctantly prying her lips away for some much needed air, she looked lovingly up into Tom’s watery blue eyes and smiled shyly, whispering cryptically “No… no more hurt. Only protection. Be my armour Tom… please. _Protect me_ …and let _me_ protect _you_ …”

Tom felt tears prickle and run down his cheeks and could only nod in response.

_God, this woman!_

This beautiful, brave, strong, intelligent woman…

She had been through such unimaginable pain and trauma over the years. And she’d done it all alone. How could _any_ man turn down her pleas?

“I love you Grace…” it seemed such a clichéd thing to say but all other words failed him in that moment as he looked down at her in sheer adoration.

“I love you more Thomas…” Grace whispered back, a serene smile forming over her kiss bruised lips at Tom’s surprised face.

Tom gently brushed his lips over hers in a tantalisingly soft kiss before pulling slightly back and smiling down at her in worship, his heart fit to burst.

When finally they had to move, cramp beginning to set in, Tom pulled Grace’s exhausted body tightly into his own, spooning her.

It never ceased to amaze him how they fit so perfectly together. How they had _always_ fit together. Like two pieces of a puzzle. Whether it was when they made love, or now, as Grace’s sleek back pressed firmly into his sweat slicked torso. It was like they’d been made for each other.

Tom’s spent cock twitched and began to swell once more as Grace let out a soft, contented moan, inadvertently rubbing her ass cheeks against his thickening length. She moaned indolently as Tom slipped back inside her, his languid thrusts gently stoking her fire once more as she lazily rolled her hips. She had never, in her wildest dreams believed they would ever be together like this again and yet here they lay, soaked with sweat and still connected in the most intimate way imaginable.

Grace knew right then that no matter what life threw at them, there was nowhere else she would rather be than right here - _right now_ \- with the man she loved more than anything else in the world.

She made a vow that no matter what hardships they faced in the future, there would be no running away this time.

_This time they would face all their troubles together._

 

  _~ The End ~_

 

**(For now...)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well… That’s it folks. I hoped the ending lived up to everyone’s expectations. There’s a completely self-indulgent epilogue to come and because I just can’t bear to let these two go I’m hoping to do some one shots in the future if anyone’s interested?
> 
> (Oh, and they WILL be returning in something special I’m working on for early next year along with some of my other characters, but that’s a secret for now…)


	61. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple POV - Mainly Tom and Grace but various other character's put their own two-penneth in as well! 
> 
> NSFW  
> Trigger Warning for mention of ectopic pregnancy and infertility.
> 
> Apologies for keeping you all waiting so long. I completely re-wrote the epilogue because I decided I wanted my original draft to be a standalone fic... You'll understand when I post it ;)
> 
> In the meantime I hope you enjoy this. Sorry it's another long one... ooer <3

 

The following months were some of the happiest, and paradoxically most frustrating of the new couple’s life. The learning curve of their relationship was steep as the reality of the sheer romanticism of their promises to one another unfortunately became clear much sooner than either would have liked. Tom hadn't dated a woman with a nine to five job for many years, although in Grace's case it was more of an eight to whenever the hell she'd finished her marking and lesson planning. Likewise, Grace hadn’t dated someone famous - hell she hadn’t even dated for a few years…

So, when they’d woken from their post-coital bubble late that Saturday evening back in May - desperate for sustenance and more than a little giddy at their reunion – they’d forced themselves to keep their hands off one another long enough to order food and answer their missed texts from a distinctly worried Luke.

Then Grace, dressed only in Tom’s plaid shirt, and Tom wearing just his faithful old black joggers, had sat down across from one another in his small but functional kitchen – Grace’s idea, thinking it might keep Tom’s roaming hands off her long enough to at least _try_ to conduct a genuine conversation - and started to discuss their future.

_Their future…_

To the casual observer it might have seemed like a complete and utter passion killer to be sat seemingly stoic so soon after rekindling their passionate affair, but both were _desperate_ to make it work this time. Having had so much miscommunication in the past had taught them at least one valuable lesson, even if it had taken them seventeen years to get to it…

And so, in between mouthfuls of pizza and not altogether chaste looks across the table, Tom and Grace started to tentatively map out how they were going to navigate their relationship, at least in the short term. They talked about their work schedules and prior commitments, how and when they’d be able to spend time together, their short term living arrangements, whether or not to go public – _Tom wanting to tell the world yet somehow still keep Grace all to himself_ \- straight away, the downside of fame and what Grace should expect, and finally how they were _both_ in this for the long haul and all that that entailed.

But it was as the reality of what ‘the long haul’ potentially entailed that Grace knew she had to make explicit what she’d been trying to tell Tom earlier that day about her stupid body. And now seemed as good a time as any, seeing as they had both laid almost all their cards on the table already.

“So… we’re decided then. Weekends we’ll stay here because it’s more secure, but during the week you’ll come to mine when I finish work?” Grace’s heart fluttered with a weird mixture of unease and excitement as she looked nervously across the table at Tom who, meanwhile, was grinning like the cat who’d suddenly got the cream.

“I’ll give you a key to my backdoor. That’s completely hidden from the road” Grace decided.

Tom sighed then, setting down his final piece of pizza and wiping the grease from his hands on a piece of kitchen roll.

“I hate that we have to skulk around Grace…” Tom ran his hand down his face in frustration “You deserve better than that! I’m sorry…”

“Sshhh. Its fine Tom, I promise. It’s not for ever, is it? Just until we both get our heads around all of this, and of course until we tell the people we _actually_ care about… Besides, I know you come with some… erm… _‘baggage’_ Grace lifted her fingers in gesture of the word and Tom rolled his eyes.

But before he could say anything, Grace mumbled “and it’s not like I don’t have my own baggage for _you_ to deal with, _is it?”_

Tom quirked his eyebrow in confusion. Grace’s eyes dropped to the table, where her fingers were playing with the discarded crust of a slice of pizza and Tom’s followed them, watching her growing discomfort reflected in the tremor of her hands.

“You? What baggage?” Tom coaxed, equal parts confused and nervous as his eyes flitted back up to her still bent head, her hair hiding her face.

Grace let out a long, deep sigh and glanced up at Tom’s flushed face through her eyelashes - the joyous delight that had been etched across it ever since they’d reunited slowly slipping away - before staring resolutely back down at the pizza crust, batting it around the plate with one delicate finger and wishing to all the Gods that she’d just kept her foolish mouth shut.

Things had been going so well. It was all so perfect.

_Too perfect perhaps…_

In the throes of their earlier passionate pursuit, Tom had completely rejected Grace’s stuttering attempts to verbalise the hard truth of what their future might, and perhaps more significantly, what it _might not_ include. But had he _truly_ understood what she’d been trying to tell him?

She wished she didn’t have to spoil the mood at all. But now, as they sat awkwardly sizing each other up in Tom’s kitchen, her having brought it back up, she figured she needed to just bite the damn bullet and make it clear.

_Explicitly clear so there was absolutely no confusion._

She only prayed that once she did Tom would _still_ want her…

As if reading Grace’s mind, Tom slid his hand across the table and gripped hers, forcing her to stop fidgeting as he massaged her palm with the rough pad of his thumb.

“Baby?”

Grace bristled at Tom’s inadvertent use of the very word that held so much mixed emotions right at that moment, and watched the movements of Tom’s thumb for a moment as she gathered her courage.

_Here goes…_

And so, with a heavy heart Grace began to explain the reality of their possible future, the very real facts about her chances of ever becoming a mother at her age with only one functioning fallopian tube, a history of irregular periods and an ectopic pregnancy, and consequently what that meant for the chances of Tom becoming a father. She didn’t dare look up as she spoke, too afraid to see disappointment, or worse, rejection in his eyes. The statistics were nothing new to her. Grace had been living with them for almost half her life. But for Tom, she felt certain they would be devastating.

So it came as quite a shock when she felt Tom’s hand tugging at hers, only to look up into his teary - yet _smiling_ – eyes as he stood and circled the table, pulling her into his bare chested, warm embrace.

“Grace, ba- _darling_ …” Tom quickly corrected himself, conscious of the subject matter “I don’t care, just so long as I have you in my life…”

Grace’s voice, thick with emotion and muffled against Tom’s chest tried to speak “But… but you _always_ wanted a big fa-”

“I also wanted to be Superman and to be able to fly!” Tom interrupted, chuckling, but Grace heard the emotion in his voice and he sniffled “Grace, I will do anything _you_ want. If we can’t do it on our own, _and if you want to_ , we can always try IVF. And if _that_ doesn’t work there’s always adoption sweetheart… just think of all those children we’ve _both_ seen alone and abandoned around the world…”

Grace squeezed Tom tightly then, feeling her heart swell with pride, her fears easing as he soothed them away with his measured argument.

_Had he already considered all this?_

Before she had the chance to ask, Tom continued “But… if you don’t want to do any of that, then we won’t either. We’ll just make damn sure we’re the best aunt and uncle we can possibly be… to family _and_ friends, yeah?”

Tom leaned back then and looked down into Grace’s teary eyes, his own wet with tears and they nodded mutely, once again basking in their mutual adoration for one another.

Both knew the future would be paved with difficult and distressing times, but they knew they could overcome anything, just so long as they stuck together.

~*~

After their long talk, and having finished off the last of the pizza, the couple stumbled back into bed where they stayed late into Sunday, until it was time for Grace to return home to prepare for work the following day.

That Sunday evening Luke picked Grace up, deeming it safer for her to hide in his car rather than Tom’s, given the increasing number of pap’s lurking around near Tom’s house since the start of the Bond rumours. After a sombre goodbye, the two lovers reluctantly parted with promises to talk once Grace had finished prepping for the following day.

On the surprisingly short drive home Grace was mostly quiet other than to thank Luke for helping to bring them back together. She didn’t trust herself not to cry if she spoke of their reunion, her heart already aching from being apart from Tom. Instead, she tried to be pragmatic, rationalising their brief separation as a necessary rest for her tender pussy.

Not that she’d minded the reason _why_ it was so tender. But it wouldn't really do to still be walking bow-legged in school tomorrow. Her pupils were nothing if not inquisitive...

Grace’s arse, knees, back and breasts had become familiar with almost every flat surface in Tom’s house by the time Luke had arrived to collect her, and the lingering throb between her thighs was tinged with more than a hint of pain. Her arse, knees, back and breasts weren’t fairing much better if she was being totally honest, but truthfully, Grace didn’t care.

And it wasn’t as if she’d left Tom much better off.

Luke had raised an eyebrow as he’d stood patiently waiting for the lovers to break from their fervent goodbye embrace. Both had the exhausted look of people who’d been up all night in the pursuit of pleasure, and Luke had considered it prudent to remind Tom he had a photoshoot in two days’ time, his vigilant eyes surveying his weary looking client’s after spotting the purple mark adorning Tom’s left clavicle through his scarcely buttoned shirt.

Grace had blushed furiously, fidgeting with her rumpled pashmina, its silky texture hiding the evidence of her own matching mark.

And so that was how Grace had found herself in her own bed - having had a long, luxurious soak in the bath to ease her aches and pains - hugging a pillow tightly in her desperate attempt to not feel quite so desperately alone. She knew it was pathetic. They’d literally only spent one night together before she’d had to return home, but with all their cards now laid firmly on the table and no secrets hanging over them anymore Grace knew there was only one place she would ever feel truly content now. _And that was wrapped in Tom’s arms._

The pillow was a poor substitute, but it at least gave her something to cling to as she finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

It was also exactly how Tom found her when he snuck in close to midnight, just as unable to sleep without Grace by his side now that he had her back in his life.

In hindsight, Tom would admit it might not have been his most well thought out plan, given that as he'd peeled back the covers - stifling a low groan as the clothed yet still deliciously ripe curve of Grace’s arse had been revealed - he'd almost simultaneously given his girlfriend – _oh, how being able to finally call her that made him grin like a Cheshire cat!_ \- a heart attack and gotten himself a concussion as Grace had jumped three feet high and blindly hit out at him, assuming he was an intruder! 

Having finally calmed Grace down, and inspected his head for bruises, Tom had slipped off his running shorts and T shirt and climbed in behind her with promises not to try any funny business.

And that was exactly how the still exhausted pair had woken the following morning, Tom spooning Grace like it was the most natural thing in the world, one large palm possessively cupping one sensitive breast through her sleepwear, whilst trying his utmost best - _but failing miserably_ – to will away his morning glory.

Needless to say that morning - _and every subsequent morning for the next few weeks_ \- had started with a bang…

~*~

And so the weeks passed and they fell in to a routine, Tom timing his morning run with Grace leaving for work, then adding an extra sprint back to her house later on in the day, usually timed to either arrive when she’d finished her marking and prep, or – when he was _really_ impatient – getting there before she’d even arrived so he could make them both dinner, remembering Grace’s lament about microwavable meals. He knew she didn’t choose them because she couldn’t cook. He’d tasted plenty of her cooking and it was always delicious. But he guessed, just like himself when working, eating simply became a necessary chore, nothing more.

If he was being truthful, he desperately wanted to take her out, to wine and dine her. God, he’d love to just take a walk through the park with her, or take her to his favourite coffee shop for a full English. But the one thing she’d been adamant about was that she wasn’t ready for the media onslaught their relationship would inevitably unleash. Tom had reluctantly agreed, knowing in his heart of hearts she was right.

_At least for now._

Their relationship – that is, this _redefined_ relationship - was still in its infancy. Tom was unwilling to risk doing anything that might scare Grace away again. So he bade his time.

As Tom repeatedly pounded the pavement day after day he couldn’t help but to wonder how on earth they hadn’t bumped into one another sooner, now that he realised just _how_ close they lived to one another. Grace’s modest, at least for the area, terrace was only about ten minutes run from his house, and around the corner from one of his close actor friends, literally on the doorstep of Parliament Hill.

_And yet somehow they had never crossed paths…_

Tom chose to put this down to his extended time away from London, rather than contemplating whether the heavens had been colluding to keep them apart. In all honesty, he didn’t care just as long as they were together now.

Their clandestine ritual worked well enough, seemingly attracting very little attention from pap’s, who just assumed Tom was in training for his next role. But Tom found it hard to watch Grace leave each morning, knowing that he wouldn’t get to see her again for hours. He usually enjoyed pottering around his house and neighbourhood when he wasn’t working, but without Grace around his loneliness was tangible. And Grace was working _a lot!_ Their third week together coincided with [SATS](https://www.gov.uk/government/organisations/standards-and-testing-agency) week and as the head of upper school, by the time Grace came home each evening she was drained.

Tom tried his best to lift the load, having a hot bath ready and waiting for her, with dinner in the oven, but the truth was both of them were beginning to realise just how different their lives were. Grace remembered how intense things had been for Tom when he’d been in the play, and by all accounts that had been nothing in comparison to the schedules Tom worked nowadays. Meanwhile, Tom had a new respect for the long days teachers worked, seeing first-hand the work that went on behind the scenes. And of course, hanging like an ominous spectre over them was the growing realisation that they would soon be parted once more.

They both knew they would _have_ to find a way to ensure things did not go haywire this time due to lack of communication. Tom had been mulling this over – _a lot_ \- while Grace was at work and by the middle of the week he was due to fly out to Philadelphia for WizardCon he’d made a big decision.

He just prayed that Grace wouldn’t flip out when he broached the subject with her.

As it turned out he needn’t have worried.

_With the first part of his plan at least…_

When he’d asked if they could travel up to Oxford the following weekend, gathering all the Hiddleston’s together to tell them their news, Grace had actually grinned with excitement!

It had not been quite the response he’d expected from her, but as Grace had revealed how hard it was becoming to keep her mouth shut about how happy she was, Tom could not help but to beam from ear to ear, pulling her into his arms.

Their weekend apart, however, left Grace in tears and Tom miserable and desperate to be back home with her. She’d put on a brave face for him when they FaceTimed, and Tom had tried to act buoyant in response - telling her about all the lovely fans he’d met - but neither fooled the other with their act, missing each other like crazy.

_It also reinforced Tom’s conviction in the second part of his plan._

Their reunion, late on the following Monday evening had been emotional, passionate and intense and had left Grace walking peculiarly the following day at work, much to her friend Nadia’s amusement.

“So… you still gonna tell me that Mr Romeo who sent you the flowers the other week is just a ‘nobody’?” Nadia had smirked as they’d sat sipping coffee in the staff room, watching in amusement as Grace winced when her blouse brushed against the tender bite near her shoulder, before whispering “because you’re walking like you’ve been shagged six ways to Sunday!”

Grace had spluttered out her mouthful of coffee and turned a delightful shade of scarlet, and it had been all the confirmation that Nadia had needed.

Still, Grace had been desperate to confide in someone. Keeping her relationship secret was beginning to drive her insane. And so she’d told Nadia an abridged account of their long history, omitting _who_ exactly Tom was, finishing with a flushed grin as she’d explained that he’d just got back home from working away the night before. Nadia had hi-fived her friend, promising not to say a word to anyone but ecstatic to finally see Grace so happy.

~*~

The rest of the week had flown by, with Tom adopting the same routine. However on the Friday afternoon he’d parked up around the corner from the school, his old US Open baseball cap pushed low over his eyes as a last minute disguise as he waited for Grace to finish work. It was the start of the half term break and the streets and roads were busy. Their bags had been packed the night before and they were going to drive straight up to Oxford for the weekend.

As Tom tapped his fingers in time to [Don’t Look Back in Anger](http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2016/04/03/tom-hiddleston-on-hank-williams-amy-winehouse-and-the-curse-of-celebrity.html?source=TDB&via=FB_Page) he tried to tamp down the nervous energy coursing through his body.

This was not a big deal, he tried to tell himself. This was just a weekend with his family and his ‘new’ girlfriend…

_Yeah, right! Keep telling yourself that mate!_

Even as he tried to pretend otherwise, Tom knew this was _so_ much more than that! He was about to unleash the motherlode of surprises on his family!

Tom and Grace had decided on their story, with very little deviation from the facts, knowing full well his father would see straight through any lies anyway. James had been more than a little shocked to have been invited to his ex-wife’s house if truth be told, but Tom and Grace had wanted to do this in one go, and despite the suspicious intonation in his mother’s voice as Tom had broached the subject of his dad coming for lunch, she’d said nothing and simply acquiesced.

_Nothing, that is, other than to ask him if he’d nipped to Vegas while he was in the States and married a knocked-up show girl!_

Grace had found this hilarious, much to Tom’s exasperation. You see, the Hiddleston’s did not yet know that Grace was coming. The truth was, Tom had been deliberately vague about his reasons for invoking the ‘Great Hiddleston Summit of 2016’ - as the couple chose to name it - other than that he had huge news that he wanted to share with _all_ his family at once. They would be spending the Friday night ‘over the fence’ (as it were) in Grace’s old house, before descending on his mother’s home on the Saturday.

_What could possibly go wrong...?_

Tom was lured out of his nervous thoughts as he caught sight of Grace with another woman in his rear view mirror. He stopped tapping, watching curiously as they chatted briefly, before her friend pulled Grace into a tight hug. The younger woman towered over Grace and he couldn’t help but to laugh, wondering if Grace was taller than _any_ of the children she taught without her heels!

His face straightened soon enough though as he watched her approach the car, her hips swaying mouth-wateringly as she walked in the aforementioned heels.

_Fuck!_

She really had that sexy teacher vibe down to a tee. The slate grey knee length shirt dress showed off her tanned legs to perfection and her breasts looked deliciously pert as they bounce a little with each step. Tom licked his lips at the memory of those same breasts being pressed hard up against the tiles of the shower that very morning as he’d fucked her mercilessly. Immediately he felt his cock start to swell and groaned. It was a good couple of hours drive to Oxford at this time of day.

This was no time for carnal distractions!

_And yet…_

Tom groaned again. His cock throbbed as he listened to the distinctive click clack of Grace’s heels as she drew nearer, and the black framed glasses perched on the end of her nose suddenly added to her air of authority.

Scrubbing his now sweaty palm over his heated cheeks, he tried to calm himself down, inadvertently knocking off his baseball cap.

Two things happened then.

Grace reached the car and pulled open the door, sliding into the luxurious leather seat with a moan of appreciation as she said hi. Then, just as Tom leaned over to kiss her indulgently, a car alongside his own beeped its horn impatiently.

Tom turned to find the woman who had, only moments earlier, been hugging Grace grinning and waving through her window, before suddenly freezing, her jaw dropping open as recognition suddenly washed over her face.

“Oh shit!” Grace mumbled, watching as Nadia literally flipped out on the other side of the glass. Tom on the other hand - _somewhat used to this kind of reaction_ \- grinned mischievously at the flailing woman and rolled down his window, ignoring Grace’s moan of protest.

“Hi there! You must be Nadia? It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m T-”

“I… I know who _you_ are! I… I lov…loved you in The Night Manager!” Nadia blurted out in a high pitched squeal, causing Grace to cover her face in despair.

She trusted Nadia. It wasn’t that she was worried her friend would go running off to the newspapers or anything. But… well, this thing with her and Tom was really _real_ now, wasn’t it?

Her work friend knew. They were about to go tell Tom’s family. And with it, her oldest friend. Soon _everybody_ would know…

“Ehehehe, well… Thank you! I’m very flattered, we all worked incredibly hard on that show.” Tom’s voice was humble, yet still laced with that deeply sensual purr of a man who could effortlessly make any woman weak at the knees, and Grace found herself clenching her own thighs despite the frankly bizarre situation unfolding before her very eyes.

“Nadia… sorry, Tom…” Grace muttered sheepishly, wanting – no, _needing_ \- this to be over “We really do need to get going if we want to avoid the traffic on the north circular”

“God yes! Sorry! Go, enjoy your week off! Your secret’s safe with me…” Nadia’s eyes were glittering with excitement as she continued “but when you get back you and I are going to talk woman! You hear me?” Grace puffed out a breath as she nodded mutely.

“Lovely to finally meet you Nadia” Tom purred again and winked, sending Grace’s friend into another tailspin, before winding his window back up and looked over to his squirming girlfriend.

“Well… that went well! Let’s just hope this weekend goes as smoothly” Tom grinned, oblivious to Grace’s discomfort as he pulled her into the kiss he’d been hankering for ever since he’d spotted her in his rear view mirror.

“Mmmpth” Grace’s muffled protest ebbed away as Tom’s hand wandered up her skirt and squeezed her thigh, the resulting groan from his mouth reverberating across Grace’s own.

Breathlessly they pulled away from one another. As Grace straightened her glasses, Tom lowered his eyes to his now bulging crotch and sniggered. “Oh Miss Wallace-Stanley? I appear to have been a very, _very_ bad boy..!”

“Really Thomas? _Here?”_

Grace rolled her eyes. Was he _really_ doing this here? _Outside her workplace?_

_Outside a bloody school for the love of God?!_

“Yes… here. Are you going to tell me off? Ooh… are you going to spank me when we get home Miss?” Tom licked his lips as he stared down at Grace’s breasts hungrily.

Gobsmacked, Grace gasped. She watched Tom over the rims of her glasses in disbelief as he openly palmed his clothed erection.

“Jesus Tom! Are you  _trying_  to kill me? Or worse… are you trying to get yourself papped as you have a wank in broad daylight?!” 

“What? I thought you liked it when I talked dirty? And fuck me, there was something incredibly sexy about seeing you strut down the street in those heels with your glasses on, looking _so_ fucking hot… Like you _owned_ this town! You do  _bad_  things to me Miss Wallace-Stanley. Bad, _BAD_ things!”

Tom growled close to Grace’s ear and licked her neck, causing Grace to whimper. But she tried her best to pull herself together and looked him straight in the eye.

“Tom! We really need to get going… someone might see you!” she reprimanded him and Tom groaned again.

“Mmm… someone’s suddenly feeling bossy!”

“Oh for pity’s sake!” Grace rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing and with a huff of acknowledgement, Tom turned on the engine. Grace fastened her seatbelt with shaking hands, sitting back in her seat in relief as they pulled into traffic.

“You do though, you know? Just feel...” Tom broke the silence when they stopped at a set of traffic lights, grabbing Grace’s hand and rubbing it along his confined length, causing them both to groan loudly at the contact. 

“I missed you today... I thought about what I wanted to do to you when I got you home. So… many… delicious things… But then I remembered about Oxford!” Tom sighed, a deep, penetrating sigh which turned into a grunt as he guided Grace’s hand down to cup his balls “And then you came out looking like that…!”

Tom took one hand off the steering wheel long enough to wave it towards Grace’s frankly confused face, thinking he was winding her up.

But, it seemed, Tom was deadly serious.

“You're like some sexy headmistress or something, and now all I can think about is you caning my arse! And that just makes me want to fuck you even more! Right this bloody minute!”

“Christ Thomas!” Grace spluttered in shock “you really are a kinky fucker, aren't you, under that gentlemanly façade? Next you'll be telling me you want to be my teachers pet!”

Tom growled and licked his lips, pressing Grace’s hand harder against his clothed and now rock hard dick, wanting her to feel what she was doing to him.

“Tom… Lights! The lights have changed…”

“Thomas... Grace warned, feeling him twitch under her fingertips.

“Calling me _that_ isn't helping at all Miss! You just made me want to be even naughtier now!” Tom grumbled, finally pulling away from the lights and wishing with every fibre of his being they were somewhere less public right now.

“Dear God in heaven! Grace muttered but couldn't keep the moan from her own lips as she had to clamp her thighs together.

It was fair to say the couple had always been relatively adventurous in the bedroom -  _as well as various other locations_  - but neither had really voiced any particular fantasy or kink before. They usually just went with the flow. But Tom’s openness got Grace thinking, and she started to hatch a plan...

“In fact, I rather like the idea of a repeat performance of our journey back from [Abbotsford House](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7067155/chapters/18494473) all those years ago, what do you think?” Tom’s voice brought Grace out of her revelry and she bit her lip, trying to be the rational one for once as she mentally listed off all the reasons why they should _not_ do that.

_Tom was famous now, his Jaguar was hardly discreet, they were in the middle of London rush hour traffic, neither one of them were spring chickens anymore…_

“I do hope you’re not trying to suggest we’re over the hill darling?” Tom’s amused purr made Grace realise she must have voiced her concerns aloud.

“…because you still make me feel like a randy teenager Miss Wallace-Stanley!”

“Stop it! Just stop it Thoma-… Tom!” Grace hissed, dragging her hand abruptly away from his crotch and wriggling in her seat, as she tried to diffuse the heat building between her own thighs “I swear to God if you don’t you’ll be sleeping in the spare room tonight!”

“Ooh… see? Bossy! I wonder if you’d be quite this bossy if I bent you over the-”

“Tom! I bloody well mean it! Stop it!” Grace moaned, her cheeks blooming as Tom smirked, unable to resist muttering “Hmm… the Jag’s bonnet is much bigger than your old Cinquecento though… I could probably lie you back and pull your legs right up over-”

“That’s enough! You want me to put you in detention young man? _Fine!”_ Grace hissed, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat and deciding two could play that game.

“Oh fuck Grace!” Tom groaned, his hand wandering from the steering wheel just long enough to palm his cock again.

“Silence!” Grace glared at him over the rim of her glasses, a smirk forming on her pink lips as she realised she finally had the upper hand, and watching with satisfaction as Tom bit down on his lip, desperately trying to keep his mouth shut in case she really did put him in the spare room.

Unfortunately, having now been reminded of the outcome of their last car journey together, the air was fraught with sexual tension for the remainder of the drive. The only saving grace – or rather the only thing _saving_ Grace – was the sheer volume of traffic on the busy roads, which meant there were no opportunities for Tom to find a quiet spot for a repeat performance of that equally hot summers day back in 1999.

Instead, they tormented one another with increasingly provocative glances and occasional touches, both smirking with satisfaction about how hot and bothered the other was getting.

Finally though, the tortuous drive came to an end, and as Tom pulled into Grace’s driveway reality once again began to hit the pair. For Tom, this would be a rare chance to be inside the house that Grace grew up in. She’d spent so much time in his own home as a child that Tom could easily count on one hand the number of times he’d stepped foot in her house. And even then he’d never been allowed upstairs. The thought of climbing that forbidden staircase filled him with an undeniable sense of excitement as he shooed away Grace’s attempts to help him with their bags.

Grace rolled her eyes but smiled at Tom’s gallantness. He could be such a stickler for etiquette when he wanted to be, and it seemed that despite the lecherous glint still lingering in his eyes and the equally lewd bulge in his jeans, he was going all out now that they were here, because when he reached the hallway, Tom insisted on being directed straight to the room where they would be sleeping and _still_ would not let Grace help at all.

With a huff Grace agreed to put the kettle on instead, strolling into the dusty kitchen and flicking on the electricity. The air in the room was musty and stiflingly hot, the floor to ceiling glass windows essentially acting like a greenhouse under the summer sun’s glare. With a huff she pushed open the creaking patio doors, mentally adding their oiling to the long list of jobs she needed to do, and stepped outside.

While Tom was faffing about upstairs, no doubt muttering silent curses at the life size poster of Eddie Vedder - _meticulously placed so that teenage Grace could always look at him when she lay in bed at night_ \- which still adorned her bedroom door, Grace tried to push away the unease at being back in the home that been anything _but_ homely as a child. The various nannies had tried their best to make it welcoming over the years of course. But for Grace, home in Oxford would always be over the fence in Diana’s house.

She made her way down towards that very fence, stroking the tired bark of the mature apple tree that she used to climb as a child and smiling reminiscently as she fondly remembered the first time she’d seen the Hiddleston’s, and thus, Tom.

It was insane to think that after so many years and all their heartbreak, the pair were back here, stood almost in the identical spot that they’d first met preparing to finally tell everyone they were now a couple.

As if sensing her thoughts, a large warm palm suddenly wrapped itself around her waist, causing Grace to sigh with contentment as Tom drew her back against his equally warm chest and nuzzled her neck.

 “Mmm… you looked like you were in a world of your own baby…” Tom whispered, nibbling the fleshy lobe of Grace’s ear and groaning as she arched her back in response, her ass brushing against his still semi-hard cock.

“Now, now then Miss Wallace-Stanley!” Tom growled in her ear as he forced her forward the couple of steps to the apple tree, pinning her against its thick trunk “I’ve had quite enough of your tormenting for one day!”

“You’re one to bloody talk _Thomas!”_ Grace moaned, but her chastisement was insincere and they both knew it.

Tom shifted his body and slapped her lightly on her rounded rump, and Grace let out a small moan of shocked surprise as the action caused her body to press harder against the bark of the tree, its gnarls tortuously rubbing her lace clad nipples through her summer work dress.

“What… what happened to me… punishing _you_ for being naughty Thomas?” Grace gasped out as Tom hiked up the skirt of her dress and shifted back, rubbing his hard dick against the very spot he’d just slapped.

“Later!” Tom grunted, his hands making quick work of pulling down her knickers as he pushed her even harder up against the tree.

Rubbing his fingers experimentally across Grace’s folds, Tom growled in her ear “Right now all I can think about is sinking my poor, tormented cock into your tempting little pussy and fucking you senseless!”

Tom's groan of satisfaction drowned out Grace's small whimper as he found her already soaked and immediately plunged two long fingers inside, massaging her tender walls and making her moan with pleasure. 

“Sshhh!” 

“You don’t want my mum to hear!”

Grace bit down hard on her bottom lip, desperately trying not to think about how good Tom’s fingers were making her feel.

Tom suddenly spun them both around so that it was now him leaning with his back against the tree. It was only then that she realised he already had his jeans around his ankles and was gripping his thick cock, lazily stroking it as his eyes roamed over her body, settling on her hardened nipples, clearly visible through the thin cotton of her dress.

“Climb me Grace! Climb me like you used to climb this tree...”

_“What?”_

“Do it! _Come on.._.” Tom persuaded with a quirk of his eyebrow.

_Was he for real?! She was nearly 37 for goodness sake!_

“Tom! I haven't climbed a tree in nearly twenty years!”

“Well then. Time to get some practice in! I hear it's just like riding a bike...” Tom smirked, his voice dropping back to that deep, sensuous tone that made Grace’s thighs quiver as he growled in her ear “well, except you'll be riding me!”

“Besides. You're only as old as the man you feel... and you've got almost two years on me...” Tom nipped playfully at her ear but Grace pulled away, giving him a dirty look.

“Is that trying to make me feel better about this Tom? Because bringing up the age difference is really not working!”

“Oh come on! Be a sport darling… You know I don’t think you’re old. You’ve got more stamina than any other wom-…”

“Do not finish that fucking sentence Thomas!” Grace growled at him then, totally rising to Tom’s bait.

“C’mon then! Wrap those gorgeous thighs around me and shimmy on up!” he made himself laugh for a second at that before winking at Grace’s shocked face, letting go of his aching cock and lacing his fingers together ready to give her a leg up.

Grace looked incredulously at Tom for a moment, before switching off all common sense in her brain and kicking off her heels.

_She’d fucking show him!_

She climbed up Tom like a monkey, using his long limbs like the very tree she used to climb as a child, the same one Tom was now leant against, his leaking cock begging to be ridden as he lasciviously licked his lips in anticipation.

Settled around his waist, Tom dug his fingers firmly into Grace’s ass cheeks. As he held her teasingly at his swollen tip, Grace’s fingers clung to the tree trunk behind Tom’s head for support.

The sensation of Grace using gravity to sink down onto Tom’s thick length made them both groan loudly as she bottomed out on the very first stroke. They paused for just a second, both biting down on their lips and praying no-one had heard their tortured moans.

Tom began to bounce her on his cock, bending his knees to gain some extra momentum and forcing Grace to bite down harder on her lip. But it was when Tom started to thrust upwards harder and harder that Grace - needing somehow to help, needing something _more_ \- surprised Tom by pulling her body up a little by wrapping her hands around a thick overhanging branch then pressing the soles of her bare feet against the tree trunk, using the leverage to piston her pussy frantically in time with Tom’s punishing thrusts.

Grace bounced faster and faster on each upstroke. This delicious collision of loins caused them to groan wantonly, before crashing their lips together in order to muffle their primal moans.

Tom tightened his grip on her arse, his head spinning as Grace let loose her inner hell cat on him, using his cock for her own pleasure. Just as Tom unleashed a particularly brutal thrust, it coincided with a fierce bounce from Grace and something fell to the ground alongside them, narrowly missing Tom’s head.

_Neither lover even noticed._

Both were too far gone, desperately seeking out their release after hours of torment from the other in the car. Grace panted for air as her arms shook with the effort of clinging on to the branch, while Tom’s head was delirious with lust as he watched his often shy – at least in public – girlfriend shamelessly using him. By the time they had reached their earth-shattering climax, collapsing to the grass in a tangle of sweat soaked and grazed limbs, the lawn surrounding their feet was scattered with dozens of unripe fruit.

The lovers gasped for breath, equally lost for words at the intensity of their coupling, red-faced at the primality both had suddenly exhibited.

It was Grace who finally broke their exhausted silence.

“Well… I think it’s safe to say we’ve well and truly defiled _both_ our childhood memories now!” she stared at the apples surrounding their feet before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Tom guffawed, although a little groan also escaped his lips as Grace’s laughter caused his spent cock to slip out. He pulled her closer to him then, languidly kissing her, her lips tainted with the faint coppery taste of blood where one of them must have bitten a little too hard.

Neither could say how long they sat there, basking in the gentle warmth of the summer evening and each other’s embrace, but the sound of a window slamming shut somewhere close by suddenly reminded them how risky their al fresco frolicking could potentially have been and just how lucky they’d been not to get caught.

Deciding it wise not to push their luck any further, the pair made their way back inside with Tom flicking on the already boiled kettle as Grace set about reheating the supper they’d brought up with them. With supper out of the way the couple cuddled up on the sofa and chatted, reminiscing about their childhood and all the memories their adjacent gardens held.

~*~

The following morning, after another round of passionate lovemaking - resulting in Tom making damn certain that Grace remembered only _his_ face in her old bedroom rather than Eddie-fucking-Vedder’s! – the pair showered and dressed ready for lunch at Diana’s.

Dressed in a pair of navy trousers and a crisp blue shirt, Tom lounged on Grace’s bed, giving Vedder a smug smirk before watching as his girlfriend fought to re-tie the bow on the front of her dress, her hands trembling so much that the silky ribbon kept slipping through her fingers.

“Here… let me”

Tom suddenly loomed over Grace, admiring the swell of her breasts in the pale peach dress she was struggling so much with. He steadied her hands with his own, drawing them down to her side and rubbing his thumbs comfortingly across her sweating palms.

“Darling… It’s only mum and dad. And Sarah. And well… Emma too… But that’s all sweetheart. Not some mob of evil monsters. Just my family, your friends… _Your family…”_ Tom soothed as he released her hands, stroking his fingers up the bare skin of her arms and resting them on her shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I know…” Grace mumbled “but… but this is different Tom. This is…”

“Right. This is _right_ baby” Tom cut off Grace’s worries with a gentle kiss to her forehead before reluctantly moving his hands from her shoulders to effortlessly tie the bow which had, up until that point proved elusive to Grace’s fumbling fingertips.

Grace worried her lip but said nothing else as Tom linked her arm and escorted her down the stairs. They’d decided to leave the car at Grace’s, the weather being so pleasant that it seemed ridiculous to even consider driving the short distance around the block.

However, as they approached the Hiddleston’s house, armed with a bag of gifts from Tom’s most recent travels, Grace’s footsteps faltered. Tom noticed and stopped, pulling her aside so they were hidden by the hedgerow and leaning forward just enough that he could look her straight in the eye.

** **

“Do you trust me Grace?”

“What? Yes… yes of course!” she nodded, looking at him in confusion.

“And do you love me?”

** **

Again Grace nodded, her eyes lighting up as she whispered “more than anything…” before biting her lip as she stared into his contented eyes.

Tom kissed her then, hard, his tongue flicking across her bottom lip and loosening it from her worried nibble.

When they finally came up for air, Tom grabbed her hand and marched her the short distance up the drive and knocked on the front door, before Grace even had the chance to think any more.

Emma opened the door, grinning from ear to ear before her eyebrows suddenly shot up on noticing Grace trying to skulk behind Tom.

“Tom! _Grace…?!_ Well this _is_ a surprise! Come in!”

“Hi Em!” Tom bent and kissed his younger sister on the cheek, refusing to let go of Grace’s fidgety hand. Emma barely had the chance to say hello back before the pair had stormed past her, leaving Emma stood in stunned silence at the still open front door.

Quickly coming to her senses, Emma shut the door and ran after them.

 _This_ she was not going to miss!

Tom heard voices in the kitchen and headed straight in that direction, Grace still in tow, mutinously muttering under her breath. So much for them doing this subtly like they’d discussed.

Tom rounded the corner, spotting both his parents and Sarah stood with their backs to him as they wrestled with the packaging on a new toy.

“Mum, Dad, Sarah… Oh and my darling Josie!” Tom’s voice softened as he spotted his niece impatiently tugging at her mum’s skirt “I’d like you all to meet my girlfriend…”

Four sets of eyes turned at the sound of Tom’s declaration, their expressions turning from bright and welcoming, to varying degrees of shock, surprise and finally, gleeful delight.

Grace stood, suddenly struck dumb in the place she used to feel so completely at ease, only managing a bizarre bow-cum-curtsy – _who the fuck curtsies in 2016?! And in Diana Hiddleston’s kitchen??_  – her cheeks suddenly burning brighter than the red dress Diana was wearing.

“Tom…? _Grace?!”_ Sarah’s mouth hung open as she seemed, for once utterly nonplussed.

Completely unfazed by the entire event, James simply gave them both a knowing nod of the head before muttering “I wondered how bloody long it would take the pair of you!”

Diana looked in astonishment at her ex-husband, dropping the toy on the worktop as her hand flew to her mouth and tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh darling! Is this true? Please tell me this isn’t one of your silly skits Tom? Is it… Is it true Grace?”

Grace nodded mutely, the blush in her cheeks only marginally settling now that it seemed she wasn’t about to be thrown out for defiling the sole male Hiddleston heir.

_Although she prayed they would never know just how corrupting she’d been many years ago… Frankly the mood Tom appeared to be in at the moment, telling them seemed a distinct possibility!_

“Well, I was beginning to give up hope! There’s always been a spark there!” James shook his head, looking at his family members in incredulity that they _hadn’t_ seemed to see it too.

Emma meanwhile just stood behind the couple, watching Grace’s hand grip her brother’s like she needed him to keep her upright and chuckled before whispering “Grace and Tom sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”

Grace spun on her heels, wide eyed, her heart racing as she thought back to last night’s wild assignation against the apple tree and dug her nails hard into Tom’s hand.

“Ow! Bloody hell…” Tom lifted his hand to inspect the damage, Grace’s hand still clinging desperately to it.

“Language Thomas!” his mother immediately castigated.

“Little ears remember…” his father prompted.

Sarah however stood oblivious, mouth still open, her eyes blinking rapidly as she looked from Grace to her brother and back again.

“Oops! Sorry Mum… Sorry Sarah… So-reee Jo-see!” Tom intoned as he knelt down, still towering over the little girl who was looking up with big, wide eyes from her uncle to her ‘Auntie-Gray-see’ at today’s strange turn of events.

“Uncle Yay Monster said a naughty word mummy!”

“And he’s very, very sorry” Tom gave the little girl his best puppy dog expression and she giggled as she ran into his already laden arms and hugged him tightly “I missed you!”

“I missed you more!”

Meanwhile Sarah was _still_ struck dumb, eyeing her brother and best friend as Tom refused to let Grace’s hand go, even as he awkwardly knelt with Josie clinging to him.

_What in the fuck?!_

Josie seemed to have noticed this too and pulled away, her inquisitive mind now on full alert as she looked questioningly first at Tom, then Grace.

“Why are you holding hands with Auntie Gracie?” she frowned.

Tom’s tongue peeked through his lips as he had to stifle a laugh. Always so direct. Just like her grandfather!

“Well…” Tom looked up at the still squirming Grace and coaxed her down alongside him where Josie stood watching them both curiously.

Tom lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed Grace’s hand softly, eliciting another hum of pleasant surprise in the room, and a nose wrinkle from Josie “I’m holding Auntie Gracie’s hand because she’s my girlfriend… a bit like a best friend… and I love her!”

There were audible gasps now from the other adults in the room, and a sniffle from someone.

Looking up in search of the source, Grace hoped they were happy tears. Sarah still hadn’t said a word and Grace was beginning to fear the worst.

She needn’t have worried. The sniffle had come from Diana who was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief offered by James. But Sarah had also finally stopped catching flies with her mouth and was instead beaming from ear to ear.

Scooping Josie up in one arm while still holding Grace’s hand steadfastly with his other, Tom rose, taking them both with him. Josie still looked like she had a hundred and one questions, and as the three made their way across the room she voiced what would no doubt be the first of many.

“But Auntie Gracie is mummy’s best friend! Not yours… You said I was your best friend!” Josie pouted.

“Auntie Gracie is _still_ mummy’s best friend darling!” Sarah finally spoke, smoothing down her daughters curls as she hugged her brother “but she’s also Uncle Tom’s _special_ friend now.”

“Right! And you’re still my best little princess friend…” Tom smiled hopefully, waggling his eyebrows as he tickled her ribs and provoked a high pitched giggle. 

“Which reminds me!”

Depositing his niece in her mother’s arms, Tom rooted through the bag of gifts until he found the doll he’d bought Josie.

“Oooh! Princess!” Josie squealed as she grabbed the doll and kissed her uncle. And just like that, all awkward questions evaporated. At least for the time being.

“Right! So, anyway, is one of you going to offer us a drink or do I have to make it myself?” Tom teased as he pulled Grace into a hug “You know we just trekked _all_ the way around the block in this heat, and still we’ve not been offered any kind of refreshment!”

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Tom looked to his mum “Mother, your hosting skills are slipping!”

And just like that the nervous energy in the room dissipated as everyone laughed. Over lunch Tom and Grace answered questions about how they’d got together, this time keeping to the well-rehearsed script they’d decided on. It was one based on truth, but leaving out most of the gory details. After all, reliving them served no purpose now they were finally reunited and happy.

As they settled on the patio later that afternoon Diana suddenly looked concerned.

“Oh sweetheart! What did you do to your arm?”

Grace tried to ignore the heat steadily rising up her neck as she rubbed the graze and acted nonchalantly.

“Oh nothing. Just battle wounds from dealing with a particularly unruly young man on Friday…”

Tom snorted with laughter, much to his mother’s disapproval.

“Thomas! I hope you’re not that insensitive to your girlfriend’s ailments all the time!”

“Oh don’t worry mum. From what I heard she gave as good as she got!”

Sarah raised an eyebrow at that but as she was about to ask, her mother suddenly stood.

“Oh crikey! I’ve just realised something! I do wish you’d told me Grace was coming Tom! I haven’t got the guest room ready” Diana went into a flap, making her way towards the patio door, intent on getting fresh linens out.

“Well we were just going to stay next door in Grace’s house anyway...” Tom started.

“Nonsense! _Your_ bedroom is already made up Tom... And I'm sure Grace wouldn't mind bunking up in the guest room for old time’s sake. I just need to make up the bed…”

“Erm… mum!” Tom muttered and Emma snorted with laughter. But Diana looked at her children in complete bafflement.

“What?” Diana looked from Emma to Tom to Grace and then back again.

Grace’s cheeks were burning as she shook her head at Tom, willing him to shut up. The last thing she wanted was to have to listen to him coax his mother into letting them share a room. It was already embarrassing as all hell being there as they all watched them like they were a couple of lab rats.

“It’s fine Tom. Thank you Diana” Grace quickly cut off Tom’s protests. As if in defiance, Tom started being extra handsy.

Grace put it down to having been cooped up for the best part of a month with her - as least when they weren’t working - as it seemed that touching her whenever, and  _however_ , he wanted had left Tom with very little self-control.

Not that Grace had minded of course.

_Well..._

Not until today. Grace could feel five pairs of eyes on her as Tom pulled her onto his lap, causing her to wriggle uncomfortably.

That in turn made Tom groan into her ear. Which made her wriggle even more. And that made him unconsciously thrust his semi-hard cock against her clothed arse.

Grace gave a tiny squeak.

Five pairs of eyes once again watched the couple curiously and Grace felt her cheeks burn and she pasted on her most innocent face.

But Grace needn’t have worried. They were happy eyes. As the evening wore on, James bid them farewell and the alcohol began to flow. Grace began to relax, while warning Tom not to relax _too much_ and to control his hands under the table as they ate sandwiches from the leftovers.  

By the time they all retired to bed, with Tom carrying a sleeping Josie in his arms, Grace felt calm and assured in the knowledge that the Hiddleston’s were genuinely happy with her and Tom’s relationship. But her contentment suffered a twinge of sadness as she watched Tom gently lower Josie into one side of Sarah’s bed, kissing her gently on the forehead as he tucked her in.

Would he ever get the chance to do that to his own child?

Sensing her melancholy as he exited the room, Tom pulled Grace into a hug, before tilting her chin up for a lingering kiss. It quickly became heated and Tom groaned into her mouth.

“Ignore mum. Come and sleep in my room baby…”

“No!” Grace resolutely shook her head, not wanting to offend the woman who had done so much for her over the years, and desperately trying to ignore the throbbing now escalating between her thighs “we can manage one night apart Tom!”

“But I promise I won’t try anything… I just want to cuddle” Tom pouted, and Grace waivered.

However, much to Tom’s chagrin, Diana chose that very moment to alight the stairs. She took Grace into her arms, hugging her fondly and kissing her goodnight, waiting for her to retire to her bedroom, before escorting Tom along the landing to his own and pulling him down for his own hug, whispering in his ear “you picked a good one there darling. I am so, so happy for the pair of you. Now get some sleep!”

Diana saw genuine contentment in her son’s eyes and shooed him off to bed, turning and making her way to her own bedroom with a muffled chuckle. Those two! She was no prude. She had no doubt one would be heading to the other’s bedroom soon enough anyway…

But Diana couldn’t help the wicked sense of satisfaction she felt at seeing Tom’s crestfallen face earlier. With another smothered giggle she closed her door. She hadn’t said anything earlier but she’d long suspected something had happened between them years ago…

_This would teach her son not to lie to his mother!_

~*~

On the Sunday morning, Tom cried off the family’s traditional walk around the park, mumbling something about feeling a bit worse for wear after all the alcohol the night before. Grace found this a little odd, remembering how he’d not appeared even remotely hampered by alcohol as he’d carried Josie up the stairs.

His alcohol consumption also hadn’t seemed to trouble him as he’d snuck into the guest room and fucked her. Twice.

Grace eyed him suspiciously but Tom moaned and groaned, pulling a pained expression as he tried to sit up back in his own bed, and so she’d rolled her eyes at him for leaving her to fend off the relentless onslaught of questions she would likely now face alone with the Hiddleston women.

However, she needn’t have worried. They shared a glorious morning, strolling through the lush green gardens, feeding the ducks and then stopping off for coffee and elevenses’ in the little tea shop. As Grace settled the bill, she picked out a huge slice of lemon drizzle to take back for Tom, blushing at the oohs and aahs coming from her best friend.

“Oh God you two really are adorable together, you know that?” Sarah linked her arm as they made their way back up the lane towards home.  

Grace glanced across at her friend, a warm smile forming on her lips as she saw no roll of her eyes, and heard no hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Really? You honestly don’t mind?” Grace questioned, gripping the bag containing Tom’s cake tightly to stop her hand from shaking nervously.

“Mind? Are you kidding me? We’ve all been trying to get Tom to settle down for years! And he _clearly_ adores you Grace. And as for you? Well, I always did say I wanted you and him to get married, didn’t I?”

“Woah, woah, woah…” Grace stopped in her tracks, holding her shaking hands up “Who said anything about marriage?! We’ve only been officially dating for a month Sarah!”

“Oh nonsense! When you know, _you know!_ And you two are soulmates! Surely after everything you told us yesterday you can see that?” Sarah hugged her closer and Grace tried her best to push away the queasy feeling in her belly at how accurate her friends’ words reflected Grace’s hopes.

“I do love him more than anything in this world…” Grace whispered almost to herself, as if scared to say it too loud in case it was stolen away from her once more.

“And he feels the same about you too, of that I’m certain!” Sarah winked knowingly and hugged her friend before they noticed Diana and Emma had already rounded the corner towards home with Josie in tow and jogged to catch them up.

Back at the house Grace looked for Tom. There was no sign of him downstairs so she dashed up to his room, assuming he must still be in bed. She worried her lip as she climbed the stairs, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. It would be just her rotten luck for him, or worse, them both, to come down with some horrible lurgy when she had a week off work.

Pushing open the door quietly, in case he was sleeping, she was perplexed to find the bed empty and neatly made. With a sigh she made her way back down the stairs, almost colliding with Diana at the bottom as she rushed out of the kitchen, dragging Emma, Sarah and Josie along in her wake.

“What’s going on?” Grace’s brows furrowed “Have you seen Tom anywhere?”

“What? Oh yes, yes… he’s out in the garden sweetheart” Diana’s flustered voice echoed a little too loudly around the hallway but she laughed it away “Sorry, we’ve just had a lovely surprise!”

When Grace looked from one woman to next in confusion Sarah quickly explained “There was an answerphone message to say that Yakov is at the airport and needs picking up! He thought he’d surprise us! You two will be fine here while we go collect him, won’t you?”

“Daddy!!” squealed Josie with excitement.

“Oh yes, yes of course!” Grace grinned then, as she watched the giddy women pile out of the house. Turning back towards the kitchen, Grace grabbed the bag from the tea shop and hummed to herself as she made her way towards the patio doors, opening them and stopping in her tracks, the bag of cake falling to the floor in shock as she stared out across the lawn.

Festooned along the pathway leading down the garden and all the way to the playhouse door were a confetti trail of cream rose petals, interspersed with pale pink roses.

Grace gulped, her heart thumping in her chest as she silently made her way down the rose strewn lawn, the sweet scent of the roses wafting up to her nostrils as their oils were released by the heat of the midday sun.

“Tom…?” Grace’s voice was barely above a breathy whisper as she finally reached the playhouse, her hands shaking and sweating so much as she reached out and pulled the door that the handle slipped through her fingers and she had to try again.

When finally the old door opened with a loud creak, the sight which greeted her almost caused Grace to swoon.

There in front of her, surrounded by literally hundreds of vintage [roses](https://www.appleyardflowers.com/flowers/all-flowers/blue-sapphire) just like the ones he’d sent to her school, stood Tom. He was dressed in a navy [suit](http://charlie-gray.com/tom-hiddleston/) and pale blue shirt looking ridiculously handsome, even in the stifling heat.

Grace was breathless as she looked up through her own watery eyes into Tom’s nervous, yet beguiling baby blues, glittering all the brighter as the sunlight filtered through the doorway.

She opened her mouth to speak - to say what she had absolutely no idea as the only coherent thoughts that were circling her brain were _‘I love this man’ ‘I love this man so much’ ‘this isn’t real’ ‘I love you Tom’_ – but Tom silenced her, reaching down and placing a single finger to her plush lips.

Grace watched as Tom exhaled a puff of air, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he seemed to gulp.

“Grace…”

“My beautiful, darling Grace…”

His finger slowly traced the seam of her lips before stroking down over the slight dimple in her chin and along her elegant neck, pausing to caress the hollow at the base and feeling her exaggerated pulse through the silky soft skin.

Grace gulped, her anxious eyes watching Tom’s captivated ones as they stared each other out.

“I… I…” Tom stuttered and coughed before gulping down another deep breath and continuing “I had this big speech prepared, laden with romantic quotes and words of wisdom, but the simple fact is that every time you appear before my eyes you leave me speechless…”

“So, erm... here goes. Grace, you're all I have  _ever_  wanted” 

“All I have ever needed…”

“What I’m trying to say, _and making a complete balls of it I fear,_ is that I love you Grace Wallace-Stanley! More than anything, or anyone else in this world. And I can’t imagine my life without you _ever_ again. It killed me leaving you last weekend when I had to fly to the States, worrying whether you’d have time alone to realise you could do so much better than me…”

“What?! No…!” Grace gasped, Tom’s fears apparently mirroring her own unspoken ones.

“Please baby, let me finish…”

Tom quirked one eyebrow in hope and Grace nodded silently.

“Grace, these last four weeks have been, _without question_ , the happiest four weeks of my life. I know we are inevitably going to have to be separated from one another at times because of our work, but I don’t ever want to feel the way I did last weekend, or way back when you were up in Edinburgh and I was stuck back down here…” Tom’s voice broke as his emotion got the better of him and he coughed, trying to clear his throat so he could continue.

“The things is Grace, I love you. Always have done, always will do… And I don’t want to waste a single second more worrying that we’ll lose each other again. So… If… if you’ll have me… and I hope you know that _you_ already have _my_ heart, _my_ mind, _my_ body and _my_ soul baby… I hope that you might possibly do me the honour of giving me yours… erm, specifically your hand right now…”

Tom bent down on one knee then and Grace swayed unsteadily, her heart racing as she tried to think rationally. Tom took her small hand in his much larger one, steadying her shaking body with his other gentle hand on her hip as he looked up at her once more with pure adoration.

“Will you marry me Grace?”

 

**~ The End ~**

 

 

_(For now…)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't. Kill. Me!!!
> 
> I will be continuing Tom and Grace's story so there will be more coming (although I have a lot on now in the run up to Christmas so please be patient!) Make sure you don't miss an update (well, in theory *tuts at A03*) by subscribing.
> 
> Once again, thank you all for your love, support and encouragement throughout! <3


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